Frozen lakes perfectly sum up my love/hate relationship with winter: the quiet, surreal landscapes, and the bone aching, bitter cold which either make me thankful and thoughtful or force me further underneath a pile of blankets and deeper into a Netflix rabbit hole until the thermometer hits 45°.
Luckily, yesterday Maggie and I managed to make it out to Lake Michigan on one of the first warmish days this year, so the lake was still the icy land of your most/least favorite Disney feature from the last two years without being a total death trap (even though we were a tiny bit, kind of, probably unnecessarily scared to be out there). And did we ever need this little excursion. The sun, the cold, the unpredictable sand and snow mix on the beach that'll swallow your leg whole to the knee, the laughing, the photo-making. It was a much appreciated farewell to a season that can sometimes - okay, that will always - make me go completely stir crazy, and a great reminder of how a little sun and some time out with a good friend can wake up a whole lot of hope inside of me.