Down where Fondy meets Winnebago brown, boats push out while the gulls circle round. Walleye below and whitecaps above, big muddy water that Fond du Lac loves. Climb the lighthouse, look out and around, marina full of boats with the sails coming down. Fishing lines tight where the lake winds blow, and nobody’s calling that water indigo. Oven Island sits tucked in the flow, cross over the bridges and wander it slow. Picnic in the shade, watch the boats roll by, brown water below and Wisconsin-wide sky. Little train rolling with a whistle and cheer, lagoons winding quietly through the park near. Walk it, bike it, fish it till dark, there’s a whole lot of Fondy in Lakeside Park. Peace. Piece. Peas. Mr. E & Justin Thyme















