At Old Woman Bay, where the Old Woman River joins Lake Superior, I watch nature unfolding a delicate balance. The river, part of terraferma, flows steadily from the land, its course shaped by forests, rocks, and rapids. As it meets the lake, there is no struggle, no battle of forces. The lake, immense and calm, welcomes the river, allowing it to enter without engulfing or erasing its identity. In this, I saw a profound symbiosis—an eternal cycle where the river feeds the lake, and the lake, in turn, generates the cycle that replenishes the river. Each needing the other, bound by a deeper unity.
The water is the same, flowing from river to lake and back again. The same territory that defines the river continues into the lake, providing the foundation for its vastness. The fish that swim in the lake return to the river to spawn, completing a cycle of life that intertwines their fates. In this delicate balance, it is clear: for one to destroy the other would be to destroy itself.
In this, I saw Ukraine, a nation that, like the river, is part of a larger European landmass, flowing independently yet inseparably connected to a greater whole. And Russia, like the lake, vast and powerful, could overwhelm, yet this was not a relationship of dominance. It was a coexistence, where both were more alike than different, sharing the same historical and cultural waters.
But my thoughts shifted. What if a great storm, a hundred-year tempest, were to descend upon terraferma, swelling the river beyond its banks? A storm so fierce that it threatened to flood the lake, disrupting their balance. In this vision, the storm was NATO—a powerful force, pushing the river against its natural flow. And the lake is Russia, as always, vast and deep, standing resilient in the face of the storm. Even the most violent of tempests could not erase the lake’s enduring presence, though it threatened to upset the harmony between the elements.
Here, nature offers a stark reflection of human conflict. Ukraine, part of Europe’s landscape, remains caught between forces beyond its control. NATO, like the storm, presses with overwhelming might, while Russia, with its historical immensity, endures. In the balance of power, the storm rages, but the lake and the river, with their shared waters, remain intertwined.
In this natural scene, the lesson was undeniable. The storm would pass, its fury fading into stillness. The river, the lake, and the land move in a delicate, enduring dance of tension and harmony. Power, no matter how fierce, must acknowledge the deeper bond that sustains all life. To harm the other is to harm oneself. True resilience comes not from dominance or destruction but from understanding one’s role in the greater whole and nurturing the fragile balance that ensures survival.
