eight feet on the ground

Eight Feet on the Ground

The fog of the morning had settled into the ocean cliffs while we hiked through the thick of it– our small family of four. We’d hiked this trail before — when I was pregnant, when the kids were infants in baby carriers. But, today we winded through the mystic trails, a pack of eight feet on the dirt, exploring together. When we reached the edge, where the cliff surrenders to the ocean, the fog began to lift. We looked around in awe, as the landscape unveiled soft indigo waves crashing onto stunning tan cliffs, adorned with cacti and wild flowers.

Amidst this beauty, this sunshine, I couldn’t help but realize, the fog had also lifted from our lives– from our early parenting days with two babies. Long gone was the haziness, uncertainty, and missteps found through pregnancy and life with newborns. I hadn’t noticed that we had made it through to the other side, until today– it dissipated from our daily lives ever so slowly, like the fog.

And now here we were, in the midst of new surroundings, new challenges, new beauty. Today felt like sunshine, an awakening, and the birth of a new season, with all eight feet planted on the ground, ready to take on what lies ahead, together.

As seen on Instagram