Beach Dog

This past Sunday was too nice to stay inside, so Sophie and I ran away to the beach. Harrington Beach State Park was packed with people brushing off their winter rust. They gawked at my flip flops and crop pants and this crazy, little white dog that zig-zagged around the beach in front of me. The air was warm inland, but the spring winds of Lake Michigan are always chilly.

I didn’t care if they thought I was crazy and I didn’t care if I was cold. I had been cooped up for too long to not dip my toes in the icy waters.

Sophie chased the waves as they rushed into the lake, then let them chase her back as they crashed into the beach. She sniffed every shell and followed the black hematite  streams of spring water. But for the most part, she stood next to me and gazed at the vast blue. When the grays of the winter still have you down, the blues of open waters combined with the fresh greens of budding spring help bring peace to the soul.

We left, toes a little numb but our spirits warm.

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