Me and the dog–the notorious Silky Terrier, Buddy–walked on the beach this morning. The violence of Lake Erie’s gales always surprises those unfamiliar with the Great Lakes. During storms, the lake is nothing like the placid oasis for pleasure boaters and fishermen that we hold in memory. It’s loud–a continuous roar. The legendary power of the waves smashing the shoreline is the bane of lakefront property owners.

Buddy and I walked down our rough steps and out onto the jetty, buffeted by the wind and soaked by the wave-tossed spray. After a short walk, Buddy had enough and we made for home. This gale is mild compared to those that will come soon.