

On road trips during the summer months toward the northern coast of California you will reach a moment in which you can roll down the windows of your vehicle and truly breathe. The air transforms itself from sweltering and suffocating and becomes something akin to inhaling a cold peace. With closed eyes, even now I can smell dark soils, crunchy blankets of fallen pine needles, sweet brininess of the ocean tide, and feel prickly kisses of cool wind over naked skin before the caressing warmth of a cottony jacket.
Driving the winding route of Old Highway 1 - the Redwood Highway - to several points of oceanic beauty is amazing; passing rich vineyards, envied wineries, and fields of undisturbed green. I love to go. Even if for no other reason than to greet the tides like an old friend once again.
I can see myself standing on a beach watching waves roll forward and back again; anticipating and almost hoping for each to form a larger and more impressive watery curl - subliminally taunting the ocean and it's power to force me to step back.
And there is a man.
He is laughing playfully as he runs quickly up and down the sand, and I admire his dexterity. He is beautiful in form. There is strength in his body, but a softness in his touch. His eyes match the ocean waves I admire and tease. He is tempting me with those eyes to join him, and he challenges me to run until he catches me... and I do. Completely out of breath, I laugh back at him when he swings his arms around me - with my whole heart.
There are wooden tee pees formed of driftwood in the sand, and I am compelled to explore. It is my nature. Primitive dwellings with foundations of rock and shells, each one not unlike the other. Random stones in piles of nothing that glisten in beautiful dimension when wet. Children built these places... if not child in form, child in heart. They make my soul smile.
It begins to rain.
The man and I begin our walk back to the car and as we talk we realize that we did not bring towels... or change of clothes... alternate shoes... or sand protection for the seats... and the clouds begin to pour down. Glances meet and the talking stops.
The kiss is melting. The moments of it linger one after another behind the eyes in fiery colors of orange and yellow and red. A spontaneous overdose of endorphins and adrenaline and the desire for this time to never end. This is loves evolution. Passion between twin souls swirling into depths of security and understanding within each other and back again.
My husband and I conceived our first child that week.
Although it is a true memory, I daydream about this day often. I know that I am blessed to have a life in which sometimes reality is better than my dreams.




2 comments: on "Small Reminders..."
This is a really beautiful,personal story.Thanks for posting it for us to read.And it is so true we forget so easily in the midst of things the trueness of love some of us our blessed to have.Sometimes we just have to let everything else fall away and look at what really makes us feel full.I think you have it.
I can't tell you how happy it makes me to read this, Kristi!
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