January 22, 2016


about twenty minutes from our door is the pacific ocean. we don't go as often as we should, but when we do go, it is always, in its own way, pretty magical.

gus wore his puddle boots and bomber jacket i found with tags iat a thrift store and fiorella slept on my chest in the ergo the entire time. steve and gus chased waves while i collected pearlescent seafoam seashells and wrote the names of each of my loves in the sand.

fiorella. steve. gus.

i found a smooth white rock buried in the sand and handed it to gus. he loved it so much and was so sweet telling me 'thank you mama' over and over with such pure joy. he has carried it with him everywhere. at night he sleeps with it and every morning when he comes into our room he is carrying it in his hands. it's begun to smell like him, too.

i tell him to be gentle and he holds it safely. it is warm from his hands, so warm that my own hands glow when i hold it.

"this is the sea. it's your first time here baby girl. here is a rock. this is kelp. do you hear that? that's a wave. it's the water breaking onto the shore. do you feel that? that is sand. you can see an imprint of your feet sink into it just so. taste that on your lips? that is salt. isn't it so beautiful?" i tell her as she sleeps.


  1. How lush your ocean is. And how beautiful your meeting with it.

  2. The shores of my belonging. Sigh. Your family enveloped in its ethereal beauty. I hope you will take them often. We practically raised our children on those same shores that your little Augustus is dipping his toes into. It is a sacred place of calm and wild...peace and freedom for a child to grow up in.

    love you moon family xx

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