A beautiful storm rolled through our area on Monday. I haven’t taken a compass outside with me to figure out what direction our front door faces. But what I’ve learned in the year that we’ve lived here is that when we are walking into the wind from our house, that means there are large waves on Lake Superior. On Monday, the waves were large enough that surfers were riding the waves between Two Harbors and Duluth.
Jake and I have a joke that the correct way home includes a drive down to the beach to make sure the lake is pretty. Once it has been confirmed, we head back to the house. The “correct” way home is technically fifteen minutes longer than going straight home, but we don’t care. We want to make sure we never take the beauty for granted and ignore it.
After we finished our workout on Monday, we drove down to the beach. Waves were crashing against the rocky shore, but from the parking lot, it didn’t look “impressive.” My perception was off because we’ve been down at the beach a few times where the beach was nearly engulfed by the waves crashing into the shore. So that morning the waves didn’t look like much.
I insisted we walk down to the beach just to “be sure” my opinion was accurate. The roar of the waves as they come in, the swish as the water pulled away, followed by the clinking of the pebbles as they got pulled back to the water, had us transfixed. We watched the water for thirty minutes before we had to go back home to work.
The wind grew stronger through the morning and I found myself staring out our window instead of typing. It reminded me of the times in school when I’d try to pay attention to my teachers, but I kept gazing out the windows, yearning to feel the warm sun and breathe fresh air.
Finally, I couldn’t quell my curiosity. I gave in and went down to the beach to see if it changed.
The waves had grown in size. The section of beach we stood on in the morning was constantly washed by the waves. I sat on an icy ledge made by rocks and water and watched the water for nearly an hour through a tiny opening of my hood. Many times I wished for ski goggles because the falling snow felt more like ice pellets striking my face. A few times a snow pellet struck my eyes hard enough it felt like it got poked. If it hadn’t been for my hands and toes getting so numb they hurt, I probably would’ve stayed out until the storm stopped.
I went down to the lake one last time before dark to discover that the lake had grown quiet and still. Other than the piles of shifted rocks, no one would know how strong the waves were. I’m fascinated by how fast the lake changes.
More storms are expected to pass through. I’m hoping that means there will be more waves smashing against the shore. Regardless of the size, I’ll make sure I walk along the beach if for no other reason than to verify that the lake is pretty.
In the meantime, while I wait for the winds to move the right way for more big waves, I’ll continue to write my current romance story while peeking out the window each time I pause to think.
Have a good week.