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on the beach

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

We went to the shore today. I'd call it a beach but the beach was buried under one or two meters of ice.

There's a broad park that follows the water here in the neighbourhood called "The Beaches". Today we saw plenty of people walking dogs (and what large dogs, compared to Tokyo!) and several were on cross-country skis.

Kenny liked horsing about in the snow and on the ice with his snow-pants, boots, and various other layers of winter-proof stuff. Mari enjoyed the blowing snow and the fascinating new combinations of low-angle sun, scudding clouds, and whirling snow. She'll get over that, I expect, but who knows–I spent five years in Japan in a state of wonder.

After that we came back home and coffee and it was good.