In the corner of a golf course are a couple of established oak trees as well as an old tree stump. Usually after a rain, a variety of mushrooms pops up from the earth in this very corner.
On the south side of Chicago, I walked across snow-covered sand on an icy lakeshore. The ice that had formed where water met beach lowly creaked as water moved underneath it. The winter day was cold, but, thankfully, there was a lack of wind whose harshness would have only been magnified by traveling across Lake Michigan.