There will come a time when these waters are warm again and Chicagoans will avoid North Avenue Beach for the sake of saving their skin from the summer sun. For now, however, it remains locked beneath the February grip of a winter that will not leave and will not let up. Ice and sand in enormous, hulking slabs lie suspended above the water line; horribly twisted concretions of our lake and her beach reach skyward, the leviathan turned stone until the rolling waves release her.
We stuck to safe paths and found a patch where the water still fought bravely against the February chill. I'm guess it lost that fight by the next morning. When summer comes, we are likely to meet revelers from Diversey and Lincoln and Fullerton come to wade and sway and see the sun before they release the night. For now it was us and the great, treacherous bulk of the lake slumbering beneath our feet, beneath the green ice and no line on the horizon but for the the jetty silhouetted against the eastern storm.