Secrets of the City

Largest lake – the Caspian Sea? Whaaa?

I don’t know, I kind of like this fast-and-loose definition of lakes. After all, aren’t the world’s oceans really just one very big salty and international lake with the continents floating in it like islands?

No? Yeah, after some reflection, probably not.

From Wikipedia: The Caspian Sea is the largest enclosed body of water on Earth by area, variously classed as the world’s largest lake or the smallest full-fledged sea.

Signs be damned, one of these days I really want to poke around the forbidden isles…

I don’t know, there are plenty of other wooded areas around the cities, and the Isles in the eponymous lake don’t seem terribly interesting. I’d probably just rather leave them to the wild life, since there are so few untouched natural areas in&around the city.

I mean, if they had a really sweet view, or were bigger and interesting to explore maybe. But they’re just little humps that seem to hold nothing of interest and it would probably just screw things up to go tromping about them.

Can’t you check those islands out in the winter? I mean, with the lake frozen over it’s as easy as just walking up to them. (Though perhaps not as exciting as canoeing over during their summer splendor.)

The Isles islands are just the tip top of a secret underground control center run by the US government. Think the island from LOST, only 10,000 times nastier.

little humps

Tee hee!

I still need to watch the LOST finale.

And yet Minnesota Board of Tourism rejected my slogan suggestion for their lake island tourism initiative: “Our humps, our humps, our humps, our bumps, our lovely lacustrine lumps. Check ‘em out.”

Must have been too long or something.

State government moves slowly, Teucer. They’re still sticking with “What ho! A fun day at the lakes!” despite the modern connotations of the phrase.

I’ve been walking, jogging, biking, and canoeing around Lake of the Isles for 30 years. I’m into nature-observing (including, but not limited to, birdwatching).

What’s distinctive about those islands is that they’ve long had something very unusual for any such spot in the heart of the city: a nesting colony of herons. (Mostly a short-legged kind: the black-crowned night heron, which often can be seen at dusk perched on sailboats at the neighboring lakes. Plus some of the big, longer-legged, longer-necked ones: great blue heron, and the white ones, which are commonly called “egrets” rather than “herons”.)

Heron colonies are famously prone to being suddenly abandoned by the birds if human activity comes too close. In some instances the birds may return to re-colonize the site the next year; but in other cases the abandoned site may remain abandoned indefinitely, for years and years.
Hence the ban against people stepping foot on the island.

(Note: if you were to walk around on the island during nesting season, you could expect to quickly get a lot of heron droppings on you.)

The best way to experience the islands’ charms is by canoeing around them, during the peak of the nesting season. You’ll be treated to the colony’s noisy vocalizing, which is perfectly normal for heron colonies even when there’s not any disturbance nearby. It’s sounds not unlike a big troop of hyperactive monkeys. Normally, if you’re just quietly and calmly canoeing by, you won’t disturb the colony.