Today is cool, the temperature around 62. I went out for my bike ride with my hood pulled up, and turned around because I realized that as soon as I got to the Lake I would be too cold. I didn’t have to eat breakfast before I left because I didn’t need to take salt tablets.

It’s only for a day, so I’m going to celebrate it to the best of my ability.

A friend is staying here for the summer, doing research. We haven’t lived in the same town for 25 years or so, so it’s odd, like going back to where you grew up and finding all the houses re-arranged. She is braver at things like driving in big (to me) cities. But then, we were riding the bike path along the Lakeshore a few days ago, and stopped to look at a broken-down pier and the dock next to it. I took off my shoes and socks to wade out a little ways (it was 9 am and already 85 degrees). I put the stuff in my pockets into my hat to leave on shore, in case I fell. She looked at me like I was thinking about diving in and was crazy, so then of course I had to dive. So there are things I am braver about. Like water.

(No, I am not an adult. Put me next to a lake when I don’t have anything formal to attend to, and I will jump in, fully clothed. This is summer. To be fair, she did jump in, finally. And she is too skinny to float, so there is that.)

Last night at the marina, the water was nearly smooth, no breeze to ruffle it, and a stream of high clouds was coming up from the southwest, sky and water both turning from gold to pink as the evening came on. Standing on the sea wall looking at the clouds and up the bay, you understand that we live on a ball, spinning.

Life on the Lake.

Taken last week.