Disappearing West

I'm on a road trip, driving across Canada. This week's rite was done at 6:30am in the woods on the north shore of Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake in the world. To me, the lake is shaped like a fish fillet. I've been thinking about the fish and water images in my life, and how these lakes north and west of my home seem to begin easily and gracefully from the shore. They surprise me: the differences between the lake and the shore, and the lake and the sky, are no big deal. How do they accomplish that?

When we drove away from Lake Superior, it felt like I was losing a window onto God. This is a sensation about which I need to be somewhat suspect.