Enjoy the outdoors but don’t be a slob about it

A very large tent appeared on a very small island. I could watch them from my living room window. My thoughts were, that’s great!  Some folks have found some time to get out of the city, and can enjoy this beautiful lake.

One of them woke quite early. Through the binos, I watched him fishing from the north part of the island. Then from the south. I didn’t see him catch anything, but that was OK. After all, fishing is about being outside, about relaxing near the water. Feeling the summer breeze on your face, being at peace with the world.

I did wonder about toiletry though. Small island, mostly bedrock, no place to “go.” The tent was so big, likely with a couple of rooms, I imagined they had a porta-potty in there. Easy enough to carry in their motorboat, and to dispose of properly when they went home.

My day got busy, so I did not see them leave. I have no idea how many people there were, whether it was a father and daughter, a couple or a family. From my living room window, all I could see was the rocky island, bare again after an overnight occupation.

I imagined the island remained as lovely as ever, out there in the middle of the lake, under the summer sun.

While they were in residence, I thought about stopping by to say hello. To welcome them to the lake, to share a few words about the amazing beauty of the lake, the sky, the water and the blueberries on this tiny island they chose as their home for a night.

I would mention that I drink the water while I swim, and walk barefoot on bedrock. I would have asked where they were from, had they ever visited this lake before and do they expect to come here again. And yes, I would have inquired about sanitation.

A few days later I paddled by on my morning canoe excursion. First thing I saw was the broken glass. Beer bottles. Further up the rock lay the remains of a fire. Black bits of wood, some charred sticks. That was OK, wood and fire are part of nature. What was not OK were the half-melted bottles, the half-burned paper towels, the half-burned food wrappers, cigarette butts and piles of who knows what it was before the burning.

The blueberry bushes the tent had rested on would recover. The island is nearly pristine again —after I returned with gloves and trash bag to pick up the toilet paper littered over the rest of the berry bushes.

It took more than an hour to gather all the bits of broken glass. I hoped to get them all, because it is such a wonderful feeling to walk with bare feet on glacial-scoured bedrock.

Next time I see a tent anywhere on the lake, I will visit. I’ll welcome them to the lake, and talk about all the important things at the start of this tale. And I will make note of their boat, motor, and registration number. I may even have a trash bag with me and ask them to use it — and take it home with them when they go. 

Viki Mather has been commenting for Northern Life on the natural world and life in Greater Sudbury since the spring of 1984.