Footprints in the Sand

Lake Michigan was its typical self this morning.  Cold, dreary, desolate.  The damp air fueled by a frigid breeze off the lake penetrated to the bones.  Not even the Seagulls showed their beaks.  Footprints were the only evidence of a recent visitor.

On a warm summer day this beach will be jam-packed with single moms, single dads and grandparents who have found the next best thing to TV for an afternoon of entertaining their wild, screaming children.  Not that I don't like wild, screaming children - we bring our grandkids here too.  But on a May morning when viciously brutal glacial winds are raging in from off-shore you might think people come here only to commit suicide or otherwise sadistically torment themselves.

Yes - I could have stayed in the Rio Grande Valley another couple weeks.