Monday, January 2, 2017

the dawn

While the night was still upon us, in time for our babe's first feed of the day, I woke Beloved, and we left the older children sleeping in the care of my parents, put the babe in the carrier and walked in the near-dark through the tea-tree grove to the shore.

It was a cloudy morning, but the changing shifts of light as the rising sun and the clouds interacted and the sea reflected their dance, was subtly enchanting.

The sand was cool underfoot and, ignoring our entourage of flies (hello Australia), Beloved and I took advantage of one of our rare nearly-alone times to enjoy being together.

As we rounded the point our footsteps were the only ones on the sand of the back-beach. Our two-month old finished feeding, and, still in her carrier, settled back into sleep. 

And we remembered how much we need the sea, how much the kids need to be by sea, and promised that this coming year, no matter what, no matter how hard, no matter how much we just want to rest, this year we'll just bundle us all up and go to the shore. 

Because to be by sea is always precious, and souls need feeding too. We all need a little more wild, a little more wonder.