A single step

Oh, what a gorgeous night to be afoot! From my bedroom window I saw reddish threads of dying light on the clouds above the Lake and knew that the sunset they were reflecting must be a spectacular one, so I threw on pants and a jacket and headed for the shore. In the middle of the park, I had a view of the an explosion of orange and crimson towards the northwest. A stiff breeze was blowing from offshore and I plowed forth into it. The beach was nearly abandoned, the sound of the surf was finally enough to drown out the highway. I clomped over the wet sand and watched the retreating waters bore intricate designs.

It's funny how a change in weather throws people. If we had a day like this in September, there would be dozens of people abroad along the Lakefront. But I suspected that, without their accustomed warmth and sunshine, hoi polloi would be hunkering down inside and I was right. There were only a couple of joggers in that entire stretch between the Foster Street and Hollywood Beaches. I told monshu it was like we borrowed a day from October to make up for the ones we'll miss by being in Beijing.

Over dinner, I paged ahead in my Chinese calendar to our proposed departure date and my heart leapt when I examined the column of auspicious actions. I was fairly sure I remembered what "出行" i meant, but I wanted to be sure; unfortunately, I'd forgotten my dictionary at monshu's the night before. When I came over and consulted it, I found the compound not listed. It wasn't in my Far East dictionary either; I eventually had to check with Lin Yu-tang to find the gloss "go on a long journey".

Edit: The beach was even stranger on the way home. At that hour, it was completely deserted. The high surf had expanded the wet beach to a depth of about 10 metres, deeper in spots. (Some dustbins were almost in danger of being washed away.) Even above that, the sand was damp and clumpy. I finally realised this was because the winds had blasted away all the dry sand and exposed the rain-soaked bits further down.