So, the next time someone asks you how deep St. Andrews Lake is, look them dead in the eye and say, “Yes.” Or say, “It depends on the humidity.” Or just shrug and point at the swan. That swan knows. It’s seen things down there. Deep things.
And if you absolutely must know? Rent a boat, take a weighted rope, and go find out. Just be prepared to lose the rope. And the boat. And maybe your dignity. The lake keeps its secrets, and I, for one, am fine with that. My sneakers are still safe on the shore.
Happy wading, you brave, foolish soul.
