As I sit looking out over the lake in these bleary, dark-gray days of winter, my mind recalls the more pleasant memories of the brighter, sunnier days 1 associate with living on Woodland Lake. I picture the elegant, stealthy Blue Heron stalking its prey along the shoreline and with a lightning quick move spearing a meal; I visualize scores of tiny Canadian Goslings frantically paddling to keep pace with their giant elders and bobbing like corks over the wakes of speeding boats: 1 see the two majestic swans gracing us with their presence as they glide through the spillway marsh.

I also recall the turtles sunning themselves on whatever logs or floats they can find and doing a panic dive whenever a boat load of onlookers gets too close; I remember the para-sailer who landed within a few feet of my boat and whose colored canopy and spaghetti-like lines tangled in my fishing gear; and I long for the excitement of seeing the sea plane doing its touch-and-go’s and of chasing the hot air balloonists as their brilliant colors and skillful piloting at lake level amaze everyone. The kaleidoscope of Woodland’s own Fourth of July pyrotechnics, the distinctive smell of burning autumn leaves, the fog melting away to unveil a brilliant sunrise, and of course the most noteworthy from my western-exposure home, the sunset spectaculars. Even the endless spider webs that reappear each day are beautiful when glistening with the morning’s dew.

Of course in this mental nostalgia I cannot totally ignore the few sunny days of the winter season, which I’m sure only occur on weekdays/workdays. I picture wisps of blowing snow swirling across the ice, the smooth sculpted contours of the drifted snow, the white domestic ducks nestled in the open snow sunning themselves, and the exuberant great escape (from cabin fever) of the snowmobilers. cross-country skiers, skaters and ice fishermen.

I fill today’s bleak day with these visions. They all remind me of how fortunate I am to be living here... not in a row house subdivision and not in a city apartment from which I moved. These memories get me through the blasts of January. the irritating mid­winter thaw. Februarys blahs. and March’s tensing false starts of spring. Like life itself. our Woodland Lake environment is all so fragile and, until gone, so taken for granted.

Contrast the above images with some others:

· The roar of a jet boat within 20 feet of shoreline, 50 feet of

your open windows, obliterating dinner conversation, phone conversation or any conversation. · Fishing peacefully at sunset in Trapper’s Cove when suddenly descended on by a pack of jet skiers, who, abandoned the rest of the lake to lay claim to those waters immediately around your boat. · The decision not to take your guests out on the lake Sunday afternoon because too many boats and so much wake are too dangerous for your blood.  · Stopping your boat to avoid collision with clock-wise (wrong way) boaters

or the every-which-way jet skiers. · Breaking a prop blade when hitting an unmarked stump or sand bar. · The disappointment of never having caught a trophy Bass, a keeper Northern Pike or the elusive and ever-pursued Tiger Muskie.

I like my first images of our lake and pray these images will always prevail. Whether they do or not is totally up to me and to you and to what effort we individually and collectively choose to expand on our lake and its environment. The contrasted images above can be controlled. But to do so requires the participation, involvement and cooperation of all of Woodland Lake’s residents.

Brighton Township, the DNR and the County Sheriff are not going to act of their own accord to protect or drastically improve Woodland Lake... for we are only a small constituency of theirs. But their members are politicians, sensitive to the pressure of those who pay their salaries. Only the involvement of we residents, our personal involvement, will make a difference in the type of lake we have.

If you are not doing something positive to work for the kind of lake you want to enjoy and remember, you are letting a beautiful lake and lifestyle die... by default. If you are ‘too busy” to voice an opinion, to help with a lake-related project or to get more involved, we’re all in trouble. The busy people are usually those who get things done, those we cannot afford to have pass.

OWL is trying to improve Woodland Lake through education and action. Please support these efforts with your contributions, your ideas and your hands-on help.