In summer, every outing stretches into a pilgrimage to water. A pilgrimage: any long journey, especially one undertaken as a quest or for a votive purpose, as to pay homage. In the heat, time distorts, and a perceived long journey shortens, culminating in mirage. Thoughts turn north to cabins, campsites, rivers; to cold Lake Superior and its rocky beaches. In the city, what can quench this thirst?
Emerging into the sticky, still air, a homing device left over from some other evolutionary phase goes off in the brain, echoing, roving insistently toward the nearest body of water. Walks have been simple — a tour of fountains, the Yamasaki Reflecting Pools, the riverfront. It’s the kind of motion that is simultaneously idle. At the Yamasaki Reflecting Pools, the comfort of water is so palpable I swear I can smell the salt breeze of the ocean. I sweat a little and go home to drink another glass of water until it’s neither half empty nor half full.