The ocean is a constant in my personal history. Growing up right on the ocean, I could hear the waves from my bedroom at night, along with all the harbor traffic sounds that I find so comforting now. I've 'tried' living farther inland, but it's never really worked out. And so, I'm here--close enough still that I can get to an ocean in just a few minutes drive. It feels imperative--my breathing changes at the beach, and things usually become quite clear to me there--it's where I go when I'm feeling 'lost'. I used to ride my bike to the lighthouse above, walk out the ledge (which of course, seemed like such a long journey to a kid), and just sit or sometimes read. It was always gorgeous, and usually windy--so windy that all you can hear is the wind. Many years later, I visited those same shores with a certain someone--watching him surf in his own harmony with the ocean, while I played with our dogs. And once again at the ocean, clarity came my way as I realized that this was the man I wanted to spend my life with.
In the left of the photo is an old fort that's quite fun to kayak out to and explore. And in the forefront of the photo is my sweet five year old, who seems to be growing his own deep love for the ocean.