{ this moment } : sunrise bike ride

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Color Walk, 2.0 :: Orange

Two summers ago, we took color walks. Lots of them. At the time, it was an activity more suited for Big B, although little b happily came along for the ride. This afternoon's plans changed for a myriad of reasons, and instead of hustling and bustling from this engagement to that--we found ourselves at home, ready to explore a world freshly shined by a thunderstorm. With Papa taking a well deserved nap, Big B, little b and I embarked on our first of this summer's Color Walks--an activity little b is discovering anew. It is only fitting to begin with ORANGE, as this is little b's very favorite color. Many more to follow!

Beach Jars

It rained on Big B's 7th birthday last week, so we missed our beach day and I think we all felt its absence. By Wednesday morning we were all itching for sand and salt. During my morning coffee browsing, I came across this link for adorable upside down terrariums. For a slightly different version, we packed up a box o' Mason jars for Big B, little b and their friends to create little bits of the beach to bring home.

What a hit! This crowd loves to hunt for treasure and find creatures--the glass was the perfect, special, take-home vessel. They were careful to keep the sea creatures alive in their buckets and store only the non-living things in the jars.

We set off mid-morning on a beachside treasure walk.
And when we arrived, sunkissed and happy, back home, we each had a bit of the beach to sustain us. At least until next week.

Summer Solstice: Sun Tea

The Summer Solstice is one of our favorite days of the year. Just when it gets so hot outside we are tempted to complain about it, we are given an opportunity to celebrate the summer, the season, the sun. We are reminded how very lucky we are to live in a place where we can bask in its glory. This morning as the sun was just warming up, we went outside to welcome it, and brought with us a pitcher of clean fresh water and raspberry tea leaves. Big B and little b added fresh mint and lemon balm from the garden.
We stopped to notice the sun illuminating the jewels of our little patch of earth.
We went about our morning, knowing the tea would be steeping, waiting for us.
And steep it did! After a few hours, the tea was a strikingly beautiful color and smelled perfume-y, sweetened only by the sun. The boys laid out a picnic blanket and waited patiently for me to bring glasses, ice, and fresh lemon to squeeze.
We took turns giving thanks for the sun, its warmth, its light, its life force. A quick toast, then sweet, refreshing sun tea on the longest day of the year.
To the sun!

"Be like the flower, turn your face to the sun."

-Kahlil Gibran

Pickled Green Beans

Among the bounty collected at The Farm was a bag full of gorgeous green beans. Inspired by this recipe (passed along by a garden muse with a great attitude and a serious pocketknife), the boys and I got to work to create our own summer treat.

The first jar was opened this morning on our beach blanket. Deliciously crisp and tart! Cheers!

Summer Pickled Green Beans

2 pounds fresh green beans, rinsed and trimmed

4 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced lengthwise

8 sprigs fresh dill

4 jalapenos, sliced lengthwise and de-seeded

4 teaspoons salt

2 1/2 cups white vinegar

2 1/2 cups water

Snip green beans and cut to fit inside pint-sized canning jars. (We like the wide-mouthed kind for this treat--better suited for little hands.) Place green beans in a steamer over 1 inch of boiling water, and cover. Cook until tender but still firm, for 2-3 minutes. Plunge beans into ice water. Drain well. Sterilize four jars. Place 1 clove garlic (sliced lengthwise), 2 sprigs of dill, and one jalapeno (sliced lengthwise and de-seeded), into each hot and sterile jar, against the glass. Pack the beans into the jars and add 1 teaspoon of salt to each. In a large saucepan over high heat, bring vinegar and water to a boil. Pour over beans. Fit the jars with lids and rings and process for 10 minutes in a boiling water bath. Enjoy!

The Last Farm Day

We are so lucky in sunny Florida to have a growing season that just won't quit. Except when it does. Sadly, on Saturday, we said goodbye for the summer to our local organic farm. (We're not the only ones who love this place and mourn its seasonal hiatus.) The fields were still full of deliciousness, but their days are numbered with the rising heat. So Big B, little b and I loaded up our market bags and meandered the aisles one last time, stocking up on only the best our climate has to offer.

When we were laden with lacinto kale, arugula, green beans, sorrell, strawberries, blueberries, and two dozen farm fresh eggs, we looked out across the fields of Romaine and saw a familiar straw hat.
Little b's preschool classmate has a daddy who works this farm. He was kind enough to give the boys a tour, and explain how the plants are grown, harvested, and sold. He showed them how the heat brings more bugs to the plants, and showed them the cover crop (sorghum) that would soon replace the remaining jewels of the fields, destined for local vegetable co-ops. And he let them sample lettuce, chard, onions and basil, straight from the earth.

After only a few minutes in the fields, the boys were hot, thirsty, and ready to leave. This was a great lesson in gratitude for farmers everywhere, folks who work long, sweaty, buggy hours each day to bring us the divine nourishment we so often take for granted. A thank you note promptly ensued:

The bounty was too good not to share. We created a little sampler basket for Great Grandma Ruth, and drove southward to bring some summer sunshine her way.

"Shake the hand that feeds you."

--Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto

Summer Beach Quilt, Part One

I am so happy that summer is here I could kiss the sky. It seems my habitual Goodwill thrifting anticipated my giddiness. For many cooler months, each trip to my favorite Goodwill yielded at least one or two vintage pillowcases or sheets. I had been making aprons with them for a little while, but this stack seemed to be growing into something...more.

Enter: Beach Season. Wednesday was the first official Beach Day for our sweet village of friends. We've been coming to this oasis as a tribe now for six summers, sharing wisdom and picnics and watching our growing babes discover this sweet spot anew each June.

Just look at them--they are all so big now. The girls lead the rescue missions and collect their creatures in buckets...

...while the boys, a la Lord of the Flies, climb their mountain of twisting sea grape branches and beach boulders.

And the mamas watch, talk, feed, nourish, occasionally knit, support, learn, and breathe.

To pay homage to this season of our lives, I rather easily decided to transform that stack of vintage linens into a summer beach quilt. This satisfies so many of my summer goals: carving out more time for creativity as a release, making beauty for our family, having a productive home, and spending as much time outside as possible. Using this square as inspiration, I am well on my way.

These colors just sing summer, don't they?

Welcoming Summer (Thank You, Tortoise)

Papa turned 37 last week, and his birthday wish remained the same as it has for years: a long weekend surrounded by beauty and family on his grandmother's South Georgia land. Each morning, we would wake, stretch, breathe, and explore. The morning glories marked our way through trees and trails, opening brilliantly toward the sun. It seems I'm not the only one that is thankful beyond belief that summer is here, and with it, God willing, a slower pace. The simple act of opening up and reaching toward the sun creates such beauty and stillness. We are truly given everything we need.

On our first morning ride, we found a nice big patch of wild blackberries, and breakfasted there for quite a while. We revisited the patch every day. We are truly given everything we need.

So much beauty and bounty, ripe for the picking. The same was true in Grandma's garden. Peaches from the tree, squash from the vine. We are truly given everything we need.

Big B, little b, and their Georgia cousins celebrated the summer sun by collecting objects of beauty and creating Solar Prints. They all marveled at the speed with which the sun created the shadows, the shapes of the leaves, and what happened when the paper met the water. We are truly given everything we need.

With summer comes water, and the boys (including Papa) drank their fill. Every day held fishing of some kind, whether by boat or on shore. And when the sun became a bit too overbearing, the water welcomed them in. We are truly given everything we need.

Over the last few years, I have become a believer--or rather a conscientious observer--of animal spirit guidance. When animals cross my path repeatedly, all I have to do is pay attention and listen, and their meanings bring me clarity. During this trip, we must have seen a dozen tortoises, mostly gopher, on our rides. Sure, the heat of summer brings them out, but we've been there every Memorial Day for the last few years, and I have never seen more than two or three. The tortoise's message was crystal clear to me, as we release the fast pace of school schedules and bedtime routines and open our arms to easy summer days: Slow down. Look upward to the sun. We are truly given everything we need.