la plage

i went to north avenue beach the other evening. it was relatively warm out, meaning low 50s, but coming from over a month of bitter cold winds slapping your face left and right, the cool breeze was more than welcomed. even at work today, everyone seemed be to ordering iced versions of their favorites, and believe it or not-- we did spy someone in shorts. i think the brutal cold sends everyone so far into hibernation that the first hint of a new season calls for celebration. 

so this heat wave prompted johnathan and i to pack up a comforter and head to clark/division on the red line and venture east to the water. 

by the time we got to the shore, the sun had completely set, but it was still pleasant out. despite being right beside lake shore drive, it was strangely quiet on the beach. there was little left of the ice that had previously paved over the sand. i frequently would look out my window to see the ice floes on the lake, just the sight of it chilling me to the bone before i even set foot outside. the sand was damp, the water was dark, deep blue. the moon was high above the water, looking back at its reflection cutting into the navy water.  you could see the ferris wheel from navy pier, completely illuminated.  there were only a few other people who had decided to venture out to the beach like us. it was wonderful. it was as if this wave had come over me and started in my toes and scrambled up my body, twisted around in my stomach, and stretched out my fingertips and out the tips of my hair.  

i return two days later with my other friend and her camera, my own journal in hand hoping to channel the energy from the glistening water into some creativity for my screenwriting class. i lied on my stomach on the blanket, dreading the creeping shadow cast from the quickly-setting sun behind the skyline. before long, i had curled up in the sandy blanket like a big cocoon and fallen asleep. sleeping on the beach is one of those incredible simple things in life, when you forget that there's probably sand maneuvering its way into all your nooks and crannies, and you just pass out on nature's own tempur-pedic. complete & utter bliss. the drool mark on my journal proves it.

being on the beach did spark a few thoughts of mine, some of which stemmed from an old friend in high school and a conversation in my junior year english class. 

has anyone read Sophie's World? 

That will be another post for another day.