point_pelee ovenbird We're here to stand at the edge–a place where a spear of land meets the deadly cross currents of Lake_Erie. My children cannot believe this is a lake. They insist it is the ocean. The horizon is a knife cutting the rind of the sky away from the flesh of the water. People let their toes touch the waves clawing at the shore in defiance of all the signs that warn you against this very thing. There's an animating power in knowing your life is at risk. Everyone here is wondering what will happen if they throw themselves in. We all imagine the undertow winding its arms around our waists, kissing away the life clinging to us like sand and we can't tell if the shiver traveling up our spines is terror or desire. When I'm walking away the water throws itself at my feet, and soaks my shoes. 250801 what's it to you? who go blather from