"Lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature." Henry David Thoreau

Water has many uses and meanings, almost as varied as people. Some believe it has a kind of healing power, while others believe that healing comes from our relationships. I believe in both. As the water can cleanse our bodies, a long chat with a good friend can cleanse our spirits. Water's healing power can be as extraordinary as a baptism or as ordinary as dipping your toes into gentle, lapping waves. And the power of our relationships can be as intimate as "What can I do to help you through this difficult time?" to "Hi, how'd you sleep?"

When my family moved here from Wisconsin, my parents were bound and determined to have a home on a lake. After all there are 10,000 here; there should be a spot for us. This turned out to be no small task, but they did eventually find a spot on a small lake in the metro area. I have many happy memories of times on that lake.

My memories have recently been stirred up and continue to swirl around in my mind. I remember so many times with my best friend. We really gave our best efforts to swimming from the rocky shoreline, but the numerous leeches were often more than we could stand. We'd shake some salt (in large measure) between our toes in an effort to make them wriggle free. Finally out of frustration (and being completely grossed out!) we would simply grab them and rip them off tossing them away as far as we could. Fortunately after that my family built a home-made swimming raft from which we could swim leech-free. Other times we would strap on life preservers and swim as far as we could hopeful that we could reach the other side of the lake. And despite our somewhat conservative demeanors, we even tried skinny dipping one night, just the two of us, soul mates that we were.

Other days we would hop into our trusty row boat with our fishing gear trying to be true Minnesotans. After much ado trying to bait our hooks, set our bobbers to appropriate depths, and looking for a good fishing spot, we would begin our fishing in earnest. Sometimes we would catch the occasional bull fish, not exactly a prize fish for two young girls barely able to bait a hook. We'd row into shore, grab a stick, shove it down teh fish's throat and swirl it around like we'd been shown. Again, being thoroughly grossed out by this gnarly looking fish, we'd often give up and seek help from others in its removal. My favorite fishing story though is when one of us cast our pole (I won't mention any names) and the entire package, hook, line, sinker, and pole went flying out into the lake. Certain that this error would be penalized in death by my parents, we immediately set our recovery plan into motion. Much screaming and jumping around resulted in no success. Plan B came into action. My friend, not exactly an avid fish catcher up to this point, grabbed my pole and promptly cast accurately enough to catch the other fishing pole. This was without a doubt our greatest fishing achievement!

Many years late, we still enjoy our time on the water. We have watched our children splashing in the lake, building castles in the sand and simply sliding down from their play set with a hose to make things more exciting. Other times are spent simply drinking coffee and chatting, with the lake acting only as a backdrop.

This fall as most of us fight to keep the leaves mulched and bundled, the grass short, the dock removed, and the boat stored, my friend will be fighting brain cancer. Just as she bravely fought strong waves, leeches, and bull fish, she now bravely fights a much larger enemy. Just as she jumped into action to retrieve a lost fishing pole, she has now jumped into action by undergoing neurosurgery, and chemotherapy. This will be the fight of her life and the fight for her life.

The large yellow ribbon in the picture on the previous page was an idea of one of my friend's neighbors. Her neighborhood is lined with ribbon-wrapped trees all showing support of my friend Teresa in her fight against brain cancer. I pray for her full recovery. I pray for many more times in the future that we get to enjoy our time on the lake. And mostly I pray that I will have my dear friend near to me for many years to come!

This autumn, as you settle down on teh deck or dock to read Lakestyle, I hope you'll experience a bit of healing too. Whether recuperating from an active summer on the lake, resting up for the challenge of readying for winter, or fighting a personal challenge of your own, I hope Lakestyle provides a small respite. Here at Lakestyle we celebrate life on the water, but first we celebrate life. Teresa, here's to our life together.

Nancy Henke, Editor

By Nancy Henke