Does anything say "end of summer" better than an overturned lifeguard chair? Yesterday was the official end of summer, according to the calendar.
Some mornings I drive my kids to their high school on the northside of Chicago, and on the way back I go for a walk along this beach in Rogers Park. I thus avoid rush hour traffic on Lake Shore Drive, and blow oxygen into my brain. And I get to enjoy beach life on a sunny day like this, even if the lifeguards have packed up, and there's a nip in the air. The lighthouse is an old friend, and so are the sand and the waves, and the wide open view of the horizon, something I always long for, and something I miss from our long road trip out west.
And sometimes it is warm enough, even at the end of summer, to lie down in the sand for a while, and listen to the waves, and observe the footprint view.
Here the pebbles are rounded and well washed, as compared with the more rough cut rocks out west.
A long stone bench runs along the walkway, and every summer people can sign up to paint a section any way they want.
Before turning back into the city a playground figure affords this last view of the beach. Soon, I assume, they will carry the lifeguard chair away and store it for the next summer.