The Bluffs

Lake Michigan butts up against Concordia's campus, and I am drawn to the edge of the lake like deer to water. Most of this side of the lake is inaccessible because of the huge dropoff between land and water. Slowly the cliff at Concordia has eroded resulting in a loss of nearly 5 acres of land, hence the 12 million dollar project to stop the creep and save the territory, now worth much money.

(See here for more details:

http://www.cuw.edu/News_Events/site_improvements.html )

My first year here, it was no small feat to get close enough to the edge to see the lake. You had to battle unmown underbrush, hungry mosquitoes, fear of falling over the cliff - it took courage and perseverance to see the lake. Most of the students didn't bother. They had so much to do. But I could not help myself. It was useless to try and stay away. So I battled through for the precious glimpses of the vast body of water below. I went as often as I could.

Then they began construction, and erected an orange mesh fence to mark the out of bounds area. They mowed grass fairly close to the fence, so other than the gnats, bees, and mosquitoes, you could not only get closer, but after they mowed down the brush, you could see much more of the lake. A few other students ventured to take a look once or twice. My wont was to wander out by the bluff early in the morning every day while the dew was still on the grass.

I had hoped they would be done with the project this year, but alas! It is not quite complete. You can migrate half way down the cliff in slowly looping new white sidewalks past the ampitheater of pure white stone risers and sod steps, but the orange fence prevents you from reaching the bottom and the water. No dangling your toes in the icy brink this year!

What is it that draws us to water? Some innate primal urge? Some need to confront something so much bigger than ourselves? I couldn't say. This year I wait until classes are over and I have practiced and read and studied. Somewhere before or just after dinner, I wander out and gaze at the great depths, drinking in its beauty.

Today, I went early because they are predicting a tremendous storm complete with violent winds, hail, the whole bit. I expect this evening I may have to spend quality time in the tunnels. So I left around 4 from the entrance to Regents Hall, the dorm I stay in. They are working on installing city water and sewer pipes, so the road is all torn up, but at least it wasn't muddy. I wandered to the right towards the bluffs, realizing how pleasant the day still is in spite of the hot wind blowing against my face like some vapid dragon intent of roasting my skin and distracting me from realizing how much sun I am getting. There are a dozen kinds of grass strewn capelike across the shoulder of the bluff - clovers in three varities, quag grass, fauxwheat, piggrass, tall grass, short grass, dark grass, cropped grass where the deer have nibbled - all interwoven carelessly, dancing around the bald spots with no concern. I watch hummingbirds, monarch butterflies, dragonflies, and a zillion species of birds flit past me as I wend my way slowly down the sidewalks towards the water.

The lake is a rainbow of hues. Tan and muddy near the shoreline, whitish blending into the most gorgeous light turquoise, darkening to match the decor on the vintage sixties buildings, turn gradually into a cobalt blue, edging away into infinity. Down below, a steamroller is roaring back and forth on the dirt, disturbing the sea gulls and misting the air with dust.

I sit with my face to the sky, kissed by the sun, wishing I could get to the water and knowing I cannot. I am struck by how alike this is with my situation in life. When I was so close to dying last time with the cancer, I could see how wonderful it would be to be in heaven, away from the pain, the exhaustion, the treatments. Yet I could not just go. I could only sit on the shore and see the joy to come and wish I were there. Yet in the end, just as I did this afternoon, I tore myself away and walked back to the practice rooms, the library, my dorm to take up the work so in need of doing.

Perhaps next year I will be able to reach the lake. Perhaps next year the construction will be done. And perhaps it will be many years before I sit on the shore of eternity again, looking over. For now, there is work needful to be done, and I must get to it!