Lake Michigan is frozen. The mounds in the photo are rock solid; in any other season, they are repetitive waves that could lull you to sleep. I walked way past where the beach normally ends, but was too fearful to go further.
Look at the layers in the sky. It was breathtaking as well as breathtakingly cold. Walking home, I saw two coyotes walking along the shoreline, but my hands were too stiff to cooperate and I could not take a picture. Spring can not come soon enough.
I love living near Lake Michigan. Having lived for many years in Manhattan, I was often near water, but rivers can’t compare to this huge lake that still reminds me of an ocean. The masquerade continues for me every time I see its waves crashing on to the beach. I am fascinated how they are unstoppable and ever-present, filled with energy and what seems like emotion, sometimes playful and sometimes angry.
Yesterday morning the waves were positively alive.
There is art all around us. Walking around Evanston, I am entranced by murals, sculpture, architectural wonders and feats of nature.
Earlier this week I walked by the lake and noticed these wooden pillars covered with ice. From a distance they looked like penguins standing in formation. The sky was breathtaking, swathed in cotton candy-like pink clouds with hints of a pastel orange in the distance. What do you see when you explore?