I’ve often wondered why people who name lakes can’t come up with something a little more creative than Round Lake or Smith Lake. They probably weren’t thinking long range. Since Smith is my maiden name I’ve asked if Smith Lake had any connection with our family but there doesn’t seem to be, in spite of it being so close to my grandfather’s farm, just outside Hayward. It’s a small, but beautiful lake that seems to be lined up with other small marshes, creeks and ponds.
Mom and I were due for a trip to the library and Smith Lake was in the same direction. We made it our outing for the day’s challenge. We drove to the small park with a boat landing and I took off the shoes, once again unprepared to actually swim. I quickly waded in while my photographer snapped a few pics. Walking out, I noticed a not so great smell which led me to examine the drifts of weed that had washed up on shore. Large, black snails in great numbers were decomposing among the detritus, looking a little like a plague of some sort. We didn’t stay long. (I’m thinking this was a temporary, seasonal thing and it wasn’t keeping others from enjoying the lake in their kayaks.)
On our way home we drove by one of the marshy areas that has been a cranberry farm for years. This area has several cranberry marshes and a neighboring town is even known for its Cranberry Festival in the fall. Not many things grow well enough in this part of Wisconsin to provide a financially reasonable crop but cranberries come close.