By the time Leif Enger reached Duluth, the rain had stopped and the dark clouds were beginning to part. As he crested Thompson Hill, he looked down and saw, for the first time, “lovely, forbidding” Lake Superior, its vast surface a choppy gray and green.
"I just thought: 'My word, how have I not known about this?' " he said. "I had no idea. I just had no idea."
Enger grew up in Osakis, in central Minnesota, and he had always looked west — toward Fargo-Moorhead, where he went to college, and toward North Dakota, where his parents grew up.
"We didn't ever go the other direction," he said. "I knew from maps there was a big lake. But it just didn't seem real to me."
But after that first glimpse of the lake 30 years ago, he started heading east, to Superior's North Shore, every chance he got.
"Every time, I would think, 'How can I move here? How can I live by this sea?' "
It took decades, but he has done it, setting his new novel up the shore and moving this summer with his wife, Robin, to a comfortable old house in Duluth with a big front porch. They felt at home there immediately, waking up each morning to the crows talking in the treetops and the foghorn bleating over the lake; heading to Bayfield, Wis., to sail their boat; walking in the evenings along the city's creeks and ravines.
"So far I really like being an urban creature," Enger said, sipping coffee at his kitchen table. The back door was open to the misty late August morning, and the last of the rain dripped from the eaves. "And how urban can it be? The other night we went down the alleyway and there were two fawns and a doe."