The Coast.

   Creative title for this post, I know.  But cut me a little slack, it's been a long, hard day and I really can't think of anything better.:p

    I am playing a little catch-up on my blog today.  These pictures are from back in July when Byran (Randy's older brother) and his lovely wife Amy, along with their darling boys Xavier and Nicolas, were in the area, and we went to the coast.  It was a beautiful day, and we all thoroughly enjoyed it.  Yes, those are sweaters and jackets that you see, but that is normal for the coast, even in the summer time.  All things considered I thought it was lovely, and even felt comfortable in short sleeves after chasing Jocelyn along the shore.

 

 I've always been more of a "beach" kind of girl, rather than the coast.  Sand was meant to be white and fine and almost too hot to walk on, and ocean waves were meant to be splashed in and jumped over and not merely viewed from a distance.

But I am coming to love this rugged, wild, blustery coast.

    And why shouldn't I?  It holds so many special memories.  It is where Randy proposed.  It is where I have taken many friends and family that have come to visit.  It is where Randy has whisked me off to for a little escape, in the years B.C.  (Before Children)  Wait, that's not entirely true, we went one time with Jocelyn.  So it is still possible.:)

 There is something about the ocean that never fails to make my heart catch in my throat a little.  It's as if you can't quite take in all of its power and beauty at once, and so you just sort of stare in a trance for a while.   The waves just declare a Creator of beauty, rhythm, order and strength.  It's hard to feel mad at the ocean.  It sort of makes you, and everything smaller, until you just want to soak it all in and just be.

  

 

  Maybe someday we'll have a house out there and I will escape to the coast to write.  I will curl up by the fire with an over sized sweater and a cup of coffee, and gaze out the window at the waves lapping the shore, and write.  I'll wiggle my toes in the softness of  the sheepskin rug at my feet, and maybe a golden retriever too.  No, chocolate lab.  Then after cranking out another chapter or two, I will shuffle in my Minnetonka slippers out to the balcony off of the side of the house facing the ocean.   Randy will be waiting for me there, and we'll lounge in deck chairs, sip our lattes, and talk about where all we want to travel next, now that we're retired.  There will be lots of coffee and lounging and fires and such.  Not that I've spent anytime thinking of this or anything.

 

 

   The time spent there was wonderful, and as always, never quite long enough.  I am so grateful that we live as close as we do.

   Thank-you Lord, for your wild and glorious oceans that are a constant reminder of how small we truly are.