Half-Moon Rising

On the first evening of autumn, I jump into Lake Michigan. I once read that climate change would have some winners. In that moment I feel like one. Half-moon rising in a clear sky, streaked orange to the west, I battle the unruly water that always feels like home. The losses that once felt too big to accept, much less comprehend -- the important job in an important place; the friends and travel and luxury hotels; the self-actualization of childhood dreams -- all feel smaller and distant on my own in this lake that stretches past the horizon. Less than a mile away, my daughter is at home swaddled warm. My partner eats nutritious food that I have prepared. And as I bob in the water, I admire the half-moon rising in a clear sky.