Born of Fire and Ice

Lake Superior is known by several names. Reflecting its grandeur and deep ties to the Ojibwe nation, they call it Gichigami or Gitchee Gumee, meaning “Great Water,” “Big Sea,” or “Great Sea.”

To the French explorers, it was Lac Supérieur, meaning "Upper Lake." Following the end of the 1754 to 1763 French and Indian War, the British victors anglicised the lake's name to Superior, as "its being superior in magnitude to any of the lakes on that vast continent."

The lake is the largest freshwater lake in the world by surface area and the third largest by volume. There’s enough water in Lake Superior to cover all of North and South America to a depth of 12 inches!

Superior was born of fire and ice. 2.7 billion years ago, the first volcanic rocks began to rise out of an ancient ocean, forming the Superior craton, the nuclear mass of our continent. Ely Greenstone rock from that era is still commonly seen on the North Shore of Lake Superior.

About 1.1 billion years ago, the Superior craton began to pull apart. A rift formed, creating a valley with more lava emerging from cracks along the edges. The rift stopped expanding before the land could separate into two continents. One billion years ago, the last volcano went quiet.

As mountains eroded and seas formed and reformed, the rift valley filled with sediments. Compacted and cemented, a layer of sandstone formed above the volcanic rock.  

The icy part is glacial. Lake Superior was shaped during the last 2 million years by glaciation. Glaciers up to 3,000 feet thick pressed downwards, scouring the soft sandstone away and forcing the ancient bedrock deeper, creating great depressions. The final retreat of the ice from the Lake Superior basin was only about 12,500 years ago.

The depressions created lakebeds. Glacial meltwater poured into them, filling them up, creating Lake Superior and the other Great Lakes.

The Shot

There are several small, rocky islands on the North Shore of Lake Superior. Hollow Rock, near Grand Portage, Minnesota, has captured my attention for years.

My first attempt to photograph this unique island with a hole in it was foiled by a thick layer of ice in 2022. As you can see below, the hollow isn’t visible. If I appear cold, it’s because the air temperature was 10 degrees below zero.

I was luckier when I visited two weeks ago. And it was during the one-week window when the sun rises through the hollow in November. Despite the cloud cover, I enjoyed the sight and came away with a pleasing image.

Thanks for looking,

Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus