A half-block east of my new home is Lake Michigan. I sat beside the lake for a short while this morning. The sun sparkled off the waves. The breeze was up. The waves hit the breakwater and receded, hit the breakwater and receded.
Shush… shush…
Shush… shush…
I took a drive to Grays Harbor last week. On the north side is a long stretch of sand, wide and empty—and gray, as the name would suggest, curving into the mist. It’s my favorite kind of beach, because the waves come in quick and shallow so that they sound more like a waterfall than the ocean. Big waves can be a little frightening but that soft lapping is so tranquil.
the waves from lake michigan have not been tranquil, though they have not been overmuch. susan loves them. she can sit lakeside for a while.