We all have our moments. Snakes, when they’re shedding their skins, are not at their best. Certain crustaceans, such as blue crabs, split out of their shells in order to grow, and during that brief period are lucky if they don’t wind up on a restaurant table. Teenagers can testify how embarrassing their skin can look when zits — those badges of youth — decorate their foreheads.
Nature has its way with lakes, too. When spring weather warms the water, from the top down, it eventually reaches cooler water deeper down and frees it to circulate upward, carrying with it unsightly clusters of sodden vegetation from the lake floor. The lake “turns,” and in so doing becomes a rather ugly mess for a time until a new balance of temperatures is reached and the lake’s complexion regains its smooth serenity.
Our stairs and landing are repaired just in time to see poor Goose Lake begin to spew up those ugly pustules that mark another cycle in the life of a lake — embarrassing but necessary. This, too, shall pass. However, in the meantime the lake leaves itself exposed to the wicked pens of poets who choose to describe its current condition in couplets of dismay and revulsion. You are hereby invited to become one of those poets.