My daughter and I braved the cold, the grey and the wind yesterday and walked the Chicago lakefront. We were rewarded with this symphony of grey and white, and what seemed like vast loneliness. We only met two hardy bikers, two joggers and a few walkers.

The ducks found themselves the only open water under the bridge to the 59th Street Harbor.
Frozen boulders along the shore – my daughter had to steady me while I crouched to take this picture as everything was glazed in ice.
This is really a view of the 63rd Street Beach House, but to me it seemed like an apparition from a snowy Japanese movie.
Icicles along the pier at 59th Street Harbor.
Dune grass is the only sign that really, this is a beach scene.
The one-armed street light.
Lake Michigan itself – nothing moves, and nothing is to be seen, except grey and white.
We shall end where we began this essay – with the trees – grey against white. I loved the urn shape of this one.