They Say There’s a Whale
Not the kind you'd find in the ocean.
Not the kind you'd find, really.
But sometimes, in the right light—early morning, before the fishermen talk too loud—you might catch something. A ripple. A shape. A feeling like the lake just breathed.
They say it’s a whale.
Freshwater, somehow.
Which, biologically, makes no sense. But stories have never cared much for biology.
It Lives Where Maps Stop Talking
The lakes are big.
Big enough to lose things in. Time, mostly. Also phones, sunglasses, and once, an entire jet ski.
So it wouldn’t be impossible.
Not exactly.
If a whale wanted to live here—quietly, invisibly, mythically—it could.
Maybe it does.
Why We Tell This Story
Some people make logos.
We made a whale.
It’s easier to talk about a whale than about chemical runoff or biodiversity collapse or the way the water isn't as clear as it used to be.
It’s easier to wear a whale, too.
What You’re Actually Supporting (Besides the Whale)
We're building a fund. 5%, every sale. It goes to freshwater protection.
We call it the Freshwater Giants Fund.
Some people think that’s nice. Others think it’s confusing.
The whale doesn’t say either way.
Join the Pod
If you see it—great. Take a picture.
If you don’t—well, most people never do.
But you’ll know it’s out there.
Same as we do.
Same as they say.