Sand stings my face. Hubby and I brave the wind storm and head for the beach to take pictures and document the effects of high winds across Lake Michigan.
Crashing waves. Angry waves break over Muskegon Lighthouse pier. Rolling, rolling frantically to an unsuspecting sandy shoreline. Lake Michigan churned simulates a voluminous soap-suds illusion.
Enthusiastic surfers walk the pier, and then jump off the end all on a quest to ride that surf in toward the beach. One solitary, crazy power boater attempts to navigate the channel. He bobs continuously as we watch from the safety of shore. Now and again, the boat disappears in the rising of the surf.
“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your right hand will hold me fast.” (Psalm 139:7-10)