There’s a new 238-acre park in my neighborhood that’s the biggest in Crystal Lake. This is an ode to our winter pop-up park: Crystal Lake itself.
When possible, I use it for cross-country skiing, a welcome switch from running or biking. For skiing, the snow lasts longer on a frozen lake, and there are no hills. A block away, the lake is also the site of nightly walks with our labradoodle Trig. Just say “cheese walk!” from anywhere in the house and Trig comes running, wagging, and spinning. I put pieces of cheese on the ice, ask him to “stay” and he’ll stop as I walk away, 200 yards or more. Finally--the green light--and he sprints forth with a kind of joy that’s rare for a ten-year-old dog in winter. It’s sort of our Olympics.
There are also moments at night of serenity, rare for the suburbs. Contrast that with weekend days, when the lake buzzes. This weekend a man on an ATV towed a kid in a… kayak. There were also snowmobiles, ice shanties, iceboats (skate sailboats), teen hockey players, and little kids making their first wobbles on skates.
Usually, nature’s the attraction. Two winter full moons lit up the snow like it wasn’t night at all. Daytime sunshine can also highlight pristine drifts and frozen formations that resemble sharp-shadowed Rocky Mountains viewed from an airplane. One day, I spotted a bald eagle against a vivid blue sky. Incredibly, a fluffy red fox ran majestically across the lake’s frozen inlet creek minutes later.
Sometimes, the lake even speaks. When the ice is thin earlier in the season, surface cracks make “Pew, Pew!” noises that sound like little kids imitating Star Wars light sabers. It’s over a foot thick now, and the shifting faults groan like whale songs.
Even in winter, living near a lake is good. Nobody sells anything out there, and social media takes a back seat. It’s been a rare banner year for Midwestern ice, but the days are getting longer, and safety is on my radar. We’ll welcome the lilacs sooner than we think, and like the ice, they come and go quickly.
I guess it’s over for now. But next year, I’m hoping to pop the question: “Cheese walk?”
I’m Mark Shuman and that’s my Perspective.
