Recently I got sick, the sore throat, achy body sick. I am rarely sick anymore and this was a little reminder of that, and a clear signal that I had been going full speed without breathing space. I was also saying hello to my 36th year and wanted to spend that day on the beach. Thinking of the drive, carrying Lucas and actually having to pack a diaper was enough to make me stay home and feel sorry for myself. The intention to find some heart space at the beach was stronger than my achy-ness so off we went with a diaper, camera, kombucha and tings (that was as much nutrition as I could come up with for us).

We pulled into the parking lot, wind blowing wildly and Lucas was asleep. I wished I had brought a magazine or that there was a book in the car, a book other than Pooh Corner. I opened the kombucha and swallowed down some astragalus and sat still. Sat still. I questioned whether I would get out of the car or just sit still. I called Patrick who shares the day welcoming his next year.

The sound of the waves and the wild wind kept calling. I grabbed the bag, told Lucas we were at the beach and he gently woke up. The wind from Earl was so strong, the waves stunning as they collided into each other, over and over. Lucas and I played with the rocks and even left the beach with the salty water all over our pants.