One afternoon toward the end of our vacation, J~ and I hiked along a wind-swept cliff where Pacific Ocean meets land at the Wilder Preserve, just north of Santa Cruz. The wind was so cold and stiff we had to lean into it, shoulders rigid, but the sky was crystalline, cloudless, and the sun was warm.
Eventually, we wound down a narrow trail to a sheltered cove. It was a relief to get out of the wind, to watch the deep blue ocean, the waves rolling in, to dig our feet into warm sand and feel the sun hot on our backs. We had the place to ourselves. Before long we were out of our sweatshirts and sprawled in the sand sleeping like contented kittens.
Internally, I am still sleeping on that beach, blissful in the sun as waves crash and whisper on the shore of my mind, drowning out all other voices. In the background, I am aware of the all the mental lists, chores waiting, urgent questions unanswered, decisive actions not yet taken. But I am limp and smiling and not quite conscious and in no hurry to become so.
These last few weeks of summer are my favorite. I hope you are enjoying them too.
