Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Today Earl and I went for a walk along the Lake Michigan beachfront in St. Joe. As we parked our car on the sidestreet and walked over the bridge that spans the railroad tracks, we heard the roar of waves racing to shore.

For the twenty-eighth of May, it was cold as we went down the ramp that leads from the bridge to the path beside the beach. The sound was amazing, as if Mother Nature were reminding us that she had stormed in last weekend and was considering doing it again.

The water was brackish, rather than its signature blue, as the wind whipped through it stirring up the bottom’s debris. And the path along the beach was deserted, save for one older woman we passed going in the opposite direction. It’s customary here to nod one’s head or wiggle one’s hand or even say “Hello” when passing a stranger; and she did her part, although it was brief and terse. Perhaps the cold had gotten to her, as the temperature was fifty at best.

When we lived in Chicago, Earl and I would often drive to a different neighborhood and go for a long walk. Then we’d go out to breakfast. It was a wonderful way to spend the morning.

But for the past two years, Earl has gone to breakfast alone, skipping the walk completely, while I worked at my computer on various projects for my freelance clients or on the Project from Hell, also called River Walk at the Box Factory.

But over the past six months I have closed my freelance business and resigned from the P from H. It’s taken some time to catch up on all the other things that had languished as I worked more than I cared to and fretted even more than that. But as I approach my sixtieth birthday, I’ve promised myself a “sabbatical,” a year off to do whatever I want.

The walk and breakfast this morning was a spontaneous thing, and it reminded me of what fun we used to have when Earl and I made it part of our daily routine. I don’t even like breakfast that much, but served up how it was today could change my mind. Here’s to my year of fun and may spontaneity make more frequent visits.