Lake Cinnamon & Sugar

It is fridged outside. More fridged, I think, than if you cloned yourself into a 6" little person, opened the freezer door, and set your little self down on the ice cubes. For most of the day, snow has been whirling off Lake Michigan and around our house. Each time I look out at the lake, the still part keeps creeping further away.

I knew my one attempt to walk outside today would be to the beach. Last week it was tundra-like, with the cinnamon-sugar mix of snow and sand whirled into design. Chunks of both sat along the shoreline, waiting to be swept away to sea.

This week I slipped down the hill in shoes with no traction and trudged through foot deep snow to the staircase--which is where the wind stopped me. It pierced my eyes with tiny drops of H2O, and I had to catch glimpses of the beach with peripheral vision. The original chunks of snow and ice are gone--buried by their friends who froze above the lake. Now the beach and the lake look the same, chunky cinnamon and sugar cubes frozen in mini-hills and valleys.

Tomorrow I'll wear ski-goggles and bring a camera.