I rode my trusty Schwinn Breeze to the shores of Lake Michigan this afternoon. I’d spent most of the day glued to the computer, creating my profile for an online freelance writer’s group. At times I became frustrated by the lack of options, the verification process, the inability to figure out where the HELL I build a portfolio? Then my husband came home from class and I discovered that I am experiencing the first stirrings of PMS. His mere presence was irritating. I decided that, before I contracted a full-blown case of Prehistoric Monster Syndrome, I should take a ride down to the lake and cool off.
Not surprisingly, it was just a wee bit cooler than cool. It was frigid, with a sharp north wind blowing. I hit the bike path after crossing a busy street, dodging opening car doors and the Number 92 bus. Soon, though, I was rewarded for my efforts. The lake’s horizon emerged: hundreds of white caps erupted in confetti as they collided with the seawall. It was beautiful.
I whipped out my ancient HP735 and started snapping as many photos as I could. I had to hurry. Not only was it cold, the sun was at a perfectly orange angle for late afternoon photos. Plus, this dinosaur sucks the juice out of batteries faster than LeStat de Lioncourt could suck a body dry.
So without further ado, I give you, the shores of Lake Michigan.