When Michael and I lived in Chicago around 1950 we were in walking distance of Belmont Harbor. We would get our bicycles out of storage at the building and ride through a park and then an underpass to the harbor proper. The park was in bloom with hundreds of flowering trees and the petals completely covered the path. The scent of Lake Michigan was sweet and clean at this time of year and the water lapped against the hulls of the boats. The simple connection to the sun, breeze, and water
allowed this recollection to survive and inspire me to find my way back to that absolutely natural state of Grace.