Sure, the Collin County reservoir lies almost two-thirds empty, nearly 17 feet below its normal elevation.

Yes, most boat ramps are closed and a marina has been literally grounded, as this primary water supply for 1.6 million Dallas-area residents keeps dwindling.

And North Texas Municipal Water District officials – responsible for delivering water to Plano, Garland, Rockwall and dozens of other cities – are considering further cutbacks on watering and, if needed, rationing.

But they and others see opportunity, glasses half-full, a silver lining of sorts, in what's happening at Lavon.

"You'll start stepping into the water right here," says James Murphy, as he tromps across what will someday be a new sandy shoreline at Lavon's Avalon Park.

A recreation specialist for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Mr. Murphy this summer directed the building of beaches at Avalon and two other Lavon parks.

With water out of the way, choice swimming areas were covered with 49 tons of pea gravel and 49 tons of sand.

"This is going to be very nice," Mr. Murphy said of the Avalon beach, flooded these days with vegetation. "We're just waiting for the water."

The down times have given volunteers from First Baptist Church of Melissa and other groups room to clean shorelines. Corps employees have removed hundreds of concrete-bucketed trees and other illegal fishing structures from the federally owned and operated reservoir.

"Fishermen like to create their own honey holes," Mr. Murphy said.

For Brent Pauling, the fishing at Lavon this year has been sweeter than ever.

"There's less water, less searching, fewer places for them to hide," said the Wylie resident, who's been fishing the reservoir for some 20 years and now targets catfish.

"We've had a lot more 20-, 30-, 40-pound fish than normal," he said. "They've been catching them left and right."

And wait until the lake refills, he and others say.

Vegetation now thriving in the drying lake bed will become fine fish habitat when submerged and enrich the water with nutrients as it decays, said Bruce Hysmith, a fisheries biologist for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department.

"It'll be great for the fishing," he said.

The shrinking reservoir has bared about 8,600 acres of public land, mostly on its northern reaches – ground off-limits to motor vehicles but prime for roaming.

"You aren't going to get to go to some of these places again," said Brad Welborn, anticipating the reservoir's eventual rise from its record low. "You might as well enjoy it."

The Allen resident has come across an old motorcycle, the remains of a truck, "all different stuff," in his ventures across the cracked land, warm in browns and thick in greens.

"Bushes are jumping up everywhere," he said, as are signs of feral hogs. "It's out of control down in there. There's so many of them."

Bow hunters can kill the wild beasts in set areas near the lake. Treasure hunters with metal detectors and federal permits can work designated spots.

And all around, the draining reservoir is bringing objects and surprises to light.

There's the 1987 Garland High School senior class ring found near a boat ramp and returned to Craig Blankenship, two decades after it plopped into the water.

"We looked and looked. I thought it was lost forever," said the Rowlett resident.

Near Avalon Park, there's the exposed bed of a Santa Fe railroad line that once ran through the town of Clear Lake, still engulfed by Lavon.

Elsewhere, the drought has delivered the wreckage of six stolen vehicles, six boats, a safe (empty), an ATM (empty), and other seamier signs of non-aquatic life.

As for the water level, "right now it's hard to see anything positive out there," said Mike Rickman, the water district's executive assistant.

But he and others say the mere sight of the lake and the state of the water supply could have a lasting impact on water conservation.

"It's got people focused on where our water comes from and how precious it is," said Martin Bowles, whose East Fork Harbor marina has been out of the water and out of action since July 4.

Jim Parks, the district's executive director, agrees. "How can anyone have a mind-set that there's not a problem to be addressed.

"The good thing about the drought is it's made it easier for us to sell that concept [of conservation] quicker."