the beach in winter

I went for a walk today with two friends I hadn't seen in a few months. We are old running partners and today they chose to walk and include me. We all share a love for the beach like many of our neighbors and find it hard to stay away even in the winter. The beach seems to change daily and even as I spy the first icebergs as we walk over the dune, I am amazed by their presence and shape.

The following is a reprint from my last experience on the cold beach, March 4th, 2007:

I love my life. I love that I have the opportunity to do beautiful fun things and to enjoy nature at it’s most glorious. I love that I love the cold.

I’ve wanted to get out to the lake since I had returned from my road trip. I’ve been the most uncomfortably cold in my house more than anywhere I’d been traveling which is odd as it had been colder in some of those places than now. With my heat cranked to seventy five it’s hard to believe that I would venture out, but I couldn’t help it, images of the icebergs and an endless horizon of water in crisp wintry quiet air waited for me on the coast.

Luckily I opted to go skiing verses just hike as I glided effortlessly fast and ventured where surely I would have sunk feet into the snow.

It was gorgeous.

I came upon the last dune to the shore and was immediately blasted by the wind unbroken by any tree. The waves were rough and dissipating far from shore causing the edge of the bergs to undulate. It was gorgeous seeing the ice pushed upon itself creating large rolling rills as if waves frozen in motion. I broke a new trail close to the edge of the woods. The snow was really deep there but my skis held me up. Can you believe after getting pounded with all new snow this week that there was none on the beach? The snow pretty much ended just outside of the tree line and started again with the shore line. I didn’t trust the ice originally, but spied some cross country tracks horizontal to the shore, so after several hundred feet of breaking fresh snow I high tailed it to the water over the sand. This still makes me chuckle as if you’re not supposed to do that. The ice was fine holding me up and creating a roller coaster anxiety as I saw pools of water and an occasional pole would break through the crust to a create a slushy new pool.

I took many pictures because it seemed so strange to see tall icebergs where there should be flat water, standing up to fifty feet off shore where I should be swimming. The wind is quite strong but I risk taking my glove off anyway to snap away. I imagine myself as an arctic explorer breaking new ground and braving hardy tundra. Of course, my warm car and ride to a hot coconut hazelnut soy decaf latte is only a few miles away.

Reluctantly I turn around as thoughts of all I should be doing today start to crowd into my child like glee. I didn’t have to go all the way to the channel I justified to myself where surely more turbulent waters were brewing under the ice perhaps creating thinner sections than could be anticipated. The wind pushed me along such that I was only steering as if on a sleigh. I think I heard myself giggling. I wanted to continue on the lake but was getting worried as from this viewpoint facing north now; I saw more cracks, dips, and puddles of water freshly frozen over. I had forgotten about all the rain and heavy wet snow that fell only days before this latest blizzard. I went into the woods taking in the shadows of the falling sun and enjoying the exertion of actually having to propel myself along.

I’m so happy I live here, yet there are so many other places that I’d love to go. How to have security and equity while enjoying new places, new topography, and love?

Chance of love.

Now that was one thing I didn’t even think about on my whole trek!