I was greeted this evening with a broken hearted girl. Her friends had once again abandoned her on the playground, and as her heart poured out the pain of the encounter, mine simultaneously saddened. We stood in the daycare parking lot, as I listened to her tale, trying to follow her story as she jumped from one injury to the next, and I held her as she cried.

Growing up is a hard business.

To cheer her up, we headed to the beach, for as you know the waves often call us there. The sky was overcast and small drops of rain fell around us as we walked down the road to get there. We were greeted by a hungry bay that had eaten away much of the beach, leaving only a sliver to explore. The wind off the water and the sand between her fingers seemed to do her well, and her spirits lifted. I turned to see her lying on her back, head in the sand, staring at the sky. Sometimes we just need to escape.

So we dug, and played, and explored. The cold water froze our fingers, and our feet flirted with the small lapping waves. Big E searched for sticks to feed the sea, while Baby E hurled ‘beautiful’ shells and stones to the tide.

Nothing incredible happened- nothing anyone would consider special, but we were revived. After a bit, the fresh air and exercise reminded us of the hour and the want for dinner, so we left our retreat and headed home.