And the fish were jumpin jumpin.

I'm pretty sure I have the plague or TB (insert Moulin Rouge soundtrack here). If by chance it is not TB, these beautiful beauties are likely to blame -

Because as everyone reading this likely knows, we are experiencing some sort of freak Indian Winter - I believe it was at least mid-'80s today - and there is no shortage of pollen floating around. I don't typically have allergy issues, but I am coughing and wheezing like an 80-year-old man. That being said, there was no way I was staying inside today. So off I trekked, into town to drop a book off at the library, through town, and over to Biggby for my first iced latte of the year. Then I walked down the hill to the riverwalk, along the train tracks, and over to Silver Beach. At this point, my throat hurt, I was fuzzy headed, and I just wanted to go home. But I made myself turn right instead of left and I headed over to the pier.

Side note: Dumbasses abound in St. Joseph

The water was crazy calm today. Not a ripple. Totally silent. So incredibly rare on our crazy lake - I've never seen anything like it. There was also somewhat of a haze so you could hardly tell where the water ended and the sky started.

Note the Caribbean blue water.

As I'm walking along the pier, I hear a splash. Ok, a fish. Big deal. But then I hear another splash. And another. I look around, and there are enormous fish hopping everywhere! At one point, it sounded like fish were falling from the sky (I wouldn't have been entirely surprised - this freaky weather is surely an indication of some sort of apocalyptic event, right?). I love sealife (from afar) so I couldn't stop giggling (yes, other pier goers called me out. "You worried they're gonna come getchoo?") - it felt like a Gordy and the deer Stand By Me moment. And my TB was feeling totally under control! So glad I detoured.

Of course, they weren't cooperating for photos, but these two left a pretty good splash.

Working on my March sunburn at pier's end.

Yes, I was texting.

No, I did not fall in.

Post-pier, I hopped down and walked along the beach toward home. And I wasn't alone. The beach parking lot was packed, there were a handful of families picnicking, and there were more than a few sunbathers - and a couple of kids in the water! I wasn't quite that brave, but I did splash around a little.

The walk was breathtaking. I kept stopping to take pics. And text my mom and taunt her. It's funny how every spring feels like the first spring you've ever experienced. Winter sure does a number on your memory.

No jumping fish on this side of the beach, but I did discover where all the minnows live:

I was fascinated and lingered here for a while. Then back to the walk - past the beach and up to the trail home. Here I spied more exciting nature -

A teeny woodpecker woodpeckering! I don't know that I've ever seen one in person. I giggled to myself here, too.

Unfortunately at this point, away from the beach and back to the trees, the TB kicked back into high gear. Luckily, at this point I'm almost home. I hauled ass across the bridge, past Rooster's, pausing momentarily to take the above pics of the evil trees, then finally spilling back into the house to pass out on the couch with Heidi.

Nothing heals quite like a Heidi snuggle.

As Brad reminded me when he got home, THIS is why I let a grumpy old man bitch at me (and tolerate a moldy bathroom and mice in our desks and ammonia fumes and soul-crushing boredom and demeaning, mind-numbing projects). Summer (spring and fall, and winter, too, really, but it's harder to appreciate up close) here is amazing. And right now we have the best of both worlds - full-on summer weather, and a beach all to ourselves.

Even if (when) it gets cold(er) again, these two weeks should keep me going until spring comes for real.