Little Known Facts

3 2 1
                                    


Little Known Facts

The water of Lake Michigan appears black as ink at night, and is very deep and cold. There is a vast concrete, government pier in my town, that is a mile long, and will take you out and away from the cities light pollution, to a pitch black world, where millions of stars are visible.

If you walk near its edge at night, while shining a flashlight into the water, you will see many different varieties of lake fish swimming in the water along side of it. Some nights the insects that concentrate there are unbearable, and tend to drive a person back to shore. On other nights the smell of dead fish floating in the water around the structure, overwhelm one's senses with the smell of rotting decay, making for a very unpleasant breathing experience.

This occurs, when different species of fish die from the thermal change in the water, while swimming inland. Other causes are natural death, and sportfish catch throw-off. The latter being where you will see a huge, rotting carcass of a salmon or trout, that some fisherman has chucked into the lake out of sheer rejection. This is common, because a lot of large fish will show the wounds from Lamprey eels, where the snake-like parasites once latched on to the now dead host.

Thousands of rats also live on and in the concrete structure, coming out at night to feed on the dead bodies of anything they can find. The rats are ever present there, going unnoticed at night by most. Many couples often walk arm in arm down the mile-long expanse of nautical freeway, completely unaware that just yards away from them vermin abound. Can you imagine the response a man would get from his date, upon asking her to take a moonlit walk through thousands of rats, where the lighting better?

In spite of the unseen night life that thrives there, the government pier is still a nice place to escape the hustle and bustle of the city, which exists above the bluff. The gentle, lapping sound, of the breaking waves upon the structure, have a soothing effect on one's spirit, and the feeling of leaving every trace of a metropolitan atmosphere behind you, (if only briefly) has its relaxing benefits also.

Every now and then a huge ship will glide into the harbor along side of the pier, leaving a churning wake behind it, as its captain prepares the sea going vessel for docking. This is always an interesting sight to see. The look of excitement on the faces of the ship's deckhands is unmistakable.

I imagine being out there on those treacherous waters for any given length of time, would make any seafaring man happy to return to port.

Lake Michigan is a very great, and deadly body of water. She has claimed many a ship, passenger, and crew, over the last decades. Off in the distance, the lights of Chicago can be seen glowing on the horizon. From here to there, forty-miles of dimly lit shoreline, denotes various towns along the way to The Windy City. One can almost feel the droning pulse of Chicago, while standing here on the government pier at night. Chicago appears like a brightly lit ship on the distant horizon. Only upon closer look, does a person realize that the illusionary, seagoing sparkles of light, are actually coming from that great city of Chicago, to the south of them. From this vantage point of artificial, nautical island, one can easily realize the vastness of the great lake.

One can also appreciate one's intricate placement in the universe, under those millions of brilliant stars. I just wanted you to know this, and to also hold you a captive audience one last time, while (as you've said in the past) I yammered on about nothing. I love you, and good-bye. (Sound of a suicide's splash.

41. <---

---> 41. --- > 41. Eye --> 41.

I want you to know now, that the page numbers switching from right to left, page 1004, and all those hanging "Eyes" were done intentionally, by the author, just to fuck with your head. If you are smoking pot, you probably will not even notice this little literary infraction.

David S. Lewis 3/20/2021

Blogs from the Bermuda TriangleWhere stories live. Discover now