Soft summer mornings
By now, dear readers, you know I’m part-selkie; that my quality of life is directly proportional to the distance between me and my nearest bodies of water; and that there are some magnificent things about our neighborhood beach.
I like my predictability in these things. Knowing what matters makes it much easier to prioritize. Knowing what makes me happy makes it much easier to be so.
But I like, too, that even as we approach the end of our first year in this new and still occasionally bewildering city we’re still discovering things to love.
This last few weeks we’ve introduced a new routine. We get up earlier than we like, stumbling out of bed in the weak light. Armed with travel mugs of strong tea and a tupperware of sundries we pad to the beach and dive in.
At 6 or 7 am it’s as if we have all 22,000 square miles of Lake Michigan to ourselves. An odd kayak in the distance every few days, but the water around us is crystal clear, cool and quiet. It is such an intimate thing to be floating among silent empty waves with nothing but a great stretch of sky to be seen.
We swim out until we can see the city skyline in the distance, paddling the stiffness out of joints. When the cooler currents have achieved their aim we air dry while sipping tea and nibbling muffins. Saying hello to summer in a tiny ritual that speaks volumes.
Que Sera Sara? 