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1:14 p.m. - Monday, Nov. 17, 2003
My Mind Is a Beached Whale

The fact that I live so close to the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore and yet I haven't been there in, Jesus, about 25 years, is pathetic. Especially since I moved to H*bart, and one of the Dunes parks is just beyond the route I was taking to and from the train station for about 12 years.

It's very odd, but I guess I just never thought of "going to the beach" as an activity that could apply to me. That kind of thing is for normal people. Of course, in the summer, which is naturally going-to-the-beach season, I'm way too busy with the yard and the garden.

And so it is that yesterday's visit to the beach was really a momentous occasion for me. I woke up early on Sunday morning and decided that I simply HAD to go there, that if I stayed home and worked around the house the way I usually do on Sunday I would simply explode, so in spite of the cold and the drizzling rain, I went. I don't think I've ever seen Lake Michigan so calm; hardly a breath of wind, and the waves barely perceptible. I was so delighted to be at the beach again after all these years that I even took off my shoes and socks and went wading — not for long, though! That water was COLD! — so cold it HURT!!!

I just walked up and down the beach a little, took a few pictures (see above), went home and took a nap because I was so tired. That's typical. Everything tires me out.

Anyway, I'd like to go back when there's a high wind. I'd also like to take Martha there, since pets are prohibited only during the summer. That would be fun. Some day when I don't have a lot to do, since I'll have to sleep for two hours when I get back.

So weird. I could see people heading for the beach in the summer without ever thinking I should go there myself. Because there was nobody around to say to me, "Let's go to the beach!" Because I just didn't think of it. It just didn't occur to me. A 13-year absence of mind.

 

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