Living here

Saturday afternoon, after dropping Jonathan off at a birthday party, Tim and I took a train on the Frankston line, heading south, down the peninsula. We got off at the Seaford station, and walked a couple of blocks to where a wooden pier poked out over the bay.
The sky was blue with pale white clouds. The sea was green and clear. The sand was pale yellow white.

We walked north, following the beach, with the water to the left, a sea-side reserve to the right, passing only a handful of people.

As we approached the train station to the north, feeling the warm water on my bare feet, I decided to swim. Tim waited in the sun on the beach while I jumped in the waves and swam.

A little while later we caught a train north again, to meet up with Jonathan after dinner.

I always wanted to live close to the beach. I always wanted to be able to spontaneously go for a swim on a Saturday afternoon. And now I can. I live here.

My world is colored blue and green and white and gold. And I live here.

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A week ago Monday, while washing the breakfast dishes, I looked outside to see a large hot air balloon floating across the park just out the window. I called the family to see, and then another drifted by. And another and another.

I hurried and put my shoes on, and headed out into the park.

A large group of hot air balloons had landed in the fields all over the park, and the riders were in various stages of collapsing the balloons after their sunrise journey.

What a lovely sunrise for me!

The world is colored in green and blue and gold and pink. And I live here.

Today, I am feeling grateful.