Between December and the New Year

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The coast delivered just as much sun as promised by the forecast. This series was all shot last Wednesday afternoon. We arrived after a long drive of squinting into the southern sky and unpacked the car into the yurt and I glanced at my watch and realized that daylight was waning so set out for the nearest beach access. And was met by golden light and crashing waves and swirling birds and the sun slowly dropping into the Pacific on the second-to-last day of the year on an almost empty beach. As if the universe wanted to be extra sure that I knew I was exactly where I should be.

The rest of the weekend was not quite as charmed, but we bundled up against the wind and did some hiking and exploring. I saw the Milky Way and thought about all the constellations I’ve forgotten in the last 20 years. I read and knit and journaled about the year past and the year ahead. We visited a new baby.

It was just the pause I needed, a good deep inhalation between December and the new year. Because really, Monday felt like the start of the new year, when I went back to work and set about recovering my routine and generally stared out over the landscape of weeks and wondered what they would bring. If this week is any indication, they’ll be over before I figure that out.