If I could take all the sunshine from an island beach and send it out to the world, I would.  Along with the breeze and the warm ocean for wading when your skin is burning and you can't stand it another second.  The waves that lift you up and set you back down, gently if you're smart, smacking you down if you're distracted.  And the laughter as your daughter dives into the breakers over and over again, happy to be part of something so huge. 
 
In Nova Scotia last year, I wrote that the sea was a peridot; clear misty green.  In North Carolina, it was jade--shot through with light just as it arced near the shore.  Last year, the sea was somber, brooding, cold.  This year it laughed at us and played with us, porpoises in the distance, and a skate on the shore.  Long walks along it mornings and evenings, quick little ghost crabs skittering in fits and starts.
 
I read books that have been waiting months for me.  Forgot my journal and spent time musing over where life is heading, what I'm looking for, who I want to be.  No answers--just thoughts. 
 
And now, it is so good to be home.