For a Moment

Photo by Michaela Triemstra

The weight of the world feels so heavy today but I’m standing on the shore of Lake Michigan and the sun is out for the first time in days. I walk past people sitting in their cars, pointing them toward the setting sun, windshields tinted orange. People in winter coats, ice crunching beneath their feet, move closer to the sunset, as if it calls to them.

Snow and sand swirl together on the beach. There is a stretch of lake where the waves froze, some in the midst of cresting. The ice has grown inches below the surface. I step away from the shore, venturing onto the lake. Where I stop, I swam months earlier, the water up to my waist.

I stand on frozen waves, trusting the lake to hold me. The sun warms me, and I feel small. Others do the same, all our faces turning to the horizon. It is so difficult to be a human these days, but in this moment, we can just sit, listen to the faraway waves lap against the ice, and breathe.