It's Friday

The rain we desperately longed for, came down for days. The dry, hardened earth soaked up every last drip, still thirsty. Then we got more. The rivers flowed again, the fish swam again. It's a complicated cycle, when a place fully dependent on the regularity of receiving water, just doesn't get any. Raingear-clad, we headed to the park on bikes, breathing in the fresh salty air. We watched water shoot off the sides of hills, making impromptu waterfalls. We literally soaked it up. Then the sun peaked out for a couple days, and we soaked up that, too.

It's Friday, and we're ready for our weekend.

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My Boys and Their Beach

This is our happy place. Where we taste the sweet air of the sea. Where we swim in the chilled water. Where we surrender to the beauty of nature. It is here were wild and free. 

The cabin. Where we spend late nights by the fire. Live music belting across the quiet night. We watch the sun set. The northern lights tease us, the whales pass by, the salmon jump. We marvel at it. All of it. 

We're convinced there's no other place like it. We're convinced we have a hidden treasure. We're convinced this is childhood at its finest.