At the Edge of the Drop-Off

Miranda Davis, my daughter, who lives in Copper Harbor year-round, sent me a great shot from a few days ago of the Copper Harbor Lighthouse. She took her two dogs, Gus and Capone, on a walk out to the light across the harbor, which is now frozen solid. The shot has the perspective of someone standing up high on something, even though it was taken from on the ice of open Lake Superior. Yes, she was standing up on something, the ice piles that form first at the edge of the drop-off in front of Hays Point, which this peninsula is called. It's quite shallow a good two hundred yards from shore here. I'd say that at the spot at the bottom of the photo the depth is only about six feet or so. This shelf, made of solid bedrock (and so advisable for ships to avoid), runs east quite a way east of the point before the bedrock falls steeply off into the channel that forms the shipping entrance to the harbor. Remember when you were a kid and feared the edge of the drop-off in the inland lakes your parents took you to. There was a drop-off on Sylvan Lake, outside Pontiac, MI, where my Kilpela grandparents lived for many decades when I was a child and teenager. It was always pleasurably spooky to swim to the edge and then dive down for a peek in the dark murkiness. At this drop-off there is no murkiness. The water is stunningly crystal clear. But I've got to admit that I don't quite get the same chilling rush when I swim or paddle out here, as I have done often over the years. Drop-offs don't scare me much any longer. For a ship's captain, it's the "come-ups" that give one the chills, naturally. Thanks, Mir, my nickname for her, which has spread. I'll post another shot from her soon.