Think spring.
I drive through snow-covered streets to the lake. The air is empty and quiet, like Catholic Mass on a Wednesday morning.
I walk to the beach. Under my feet ice and snow make the sound of crumpling newspaper. As I approach, the call of thunder builds. Twenty-five knot winds from the Northeast push the water into breakers that heave onto the beach.
It looks as if the water could twist and break a boat into small pieces.
It can only mean one thing: Indiana windsurfing season is not so far away.
The thought brings warmth to my toes.
Not sure how I’d launch in those waves, though.
Posted: March 12th, 2005 by Jeff under Ponderings, The lake. Comments: none
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