Michigan, You’re Gorgeous

On Friday evening I squeezed into my favorite pair of running tights, laced up my kicks and headed out for a sunset spin through my parents' neighborhood. About a mile and a half into the route I'd chosen the forest thinned out and the pavement gave way to sand and suddenly all that I could see was blue, forever. Blue sky. Blue water. Infinite, perpetual, relentless blue. And because I'd been lucky, so very lucky, in the timing of my arrival, I reached that ceaseless blue just as the sun began its descent toward the horizon and in an instant, yet ever so gently, that blue started to fade and in its place came orange, and pink, and red, each of the colors brilliant, each of them fleeting, their edges softening into one another as the moments passed until there was no blue to be found, but instead, all around me, over the dunes and on the beach and in the sky, there was gold. In the end it stayed only a minute or so, that aureate shimmer on the Earth, but it was enough. It was magic.