There’s nothing quite like spending time at the beach in autumn. Leaves falling like rain. Fiery sunsets. Nights by the fire. Waves crashing into the shore.
It is magical for me, being so near the place where the water meets the sky. Cleansing. Inspirational.
I love to wake up early and watch the sun rise on the horizon, while drinking my latte and listening to the surf. I enjoy long walks on the beach, while talking and taking in the views. I cherish moments spent with my friends and family; moments spent with my thoughts and my notebook.
These photos were taken and words were written on the shores of Lake Michigan in Indiana.
An Indiana Morning
Morning. Two lovers. A walk along a hazy, pebble-covered beach.
The sky is aglow, painted by the rising sun. The tide is high; waves crash into the shore. The froth rushes out, leaving behind reflected rainbows in its wake.
Still water snakes along the lovers’ path, leaving sand islands between them and the lake. As the sherbet hues dance in the stillness, the couple stops to take in the view.
She leans in for a kiss, then they pause for a moment, faces pressed against one another. Just being, together.
The smell of his Nivea lingers on her face, long after the walk is over.
Who knew an Indiana morning could be this beautiful?
Dive into my dreams.
Learn each square inch of my sun-lit cliffs and the shadowy depths of my valley floors.
Take a dip into my subconscious.
Learn who I really am. Deeper than I even know?
Bathe in my rivers. You shall learn, then be rewarded.
But, beware of the depths. Don’t drown.
Spring turns to summer, then fall to winter.
Things grow, then die.
Love burns, then withers.
The circle of life: nothing is constant but change.
Water and Fire
The waves crash behind me. I’m warmed by the fire in front of me.
I sit on the beach, thinking about the people who have sat here before me. The Potowatomi’s, pioneers, and Presidents. Simon Pokagon, Harry Tuthill, Joe Biden.
I want to ask them, “Were the colors always this vibrant? Was the sand always this soft? Were the sunsets always this beautiful?”
Time changes everything, but maybe this beach is beyond her grasp.
The lake grows dark behind me. I’m enlightened by the crackle of the flames.
A November Sunset
As the salmon November sun sank into the glassy water, the world, momentarily, was set on fire.
Brushed stripes of magenta and apricot appeared painted on the turquoise sky, then reflected in the tide.
Just above the horizon, lead clouds were lit from underneath. For a moment, just a moment, the entire world glowed.
The beach doubles as a panoramic stage for the ultimate virtuoso to show off.
God? Mother Nature? Or, Miss Universe?