It's been...big

I've been trying to think about how to write this post for a while.  It's been several weeks since I've really sat down at the computer to write.  In large part because at the end of the day, I'm just ready to sit down, have either a cup of tea (or depending on the night, a gin and tonic), and be still.  These past few weeks have been ______.  And I struggle to fill in that blank.  There are so many adjectives I could drop into that blank at the end of the sentence.  As I think about it tonight, the one characteristic that is shared among any of the choices is big.  It's all been big.  Big feelings, big moments.

It's been a hard few weeks, to be honest.  I miss our old home, our friends, our neighborhood, our church.  And while Addy has only used those words a few times, I think both girls are feeling a bit of the same.  Addy has talked a lot about feeling "left out" at school, when teachers use phrases like "you may remember this from kindergarten." She loves to remind me that she "did kindergarten," as if somehow I forgot, "but that's not it, it's that [she] was not at Riverbend for kindergarten and so it's not the same."  And Cora spouts out random memories - the other day we were coming home from her preschool and she says, "Mom, you remember Lucas's shoes?  He had cool shoes and they were fast."  I know she's making new friends at her preschool, but Lucas was one of her buds at her old preschool and she's remembering them, too.  It's a fine line trying to talk about these feelings but not dwell on them.  

And I think having these feelings in the background make everything else we're experiencing feel just a little bit bigger.  Getting used to our new routines, battling a little head cold that's going around, trying to make new friends...and, of course, missing Graham.

It also amplifies the "wow" moments, too.  And there have been many of those moments.  Times when we get out and learn about our new home or meet new people and we are on that high that comes from making that connection.  Those moments carry us through.

A few weekends back we sought out just that.  We were battling that head cold I was talking about, it had been raining for days, getting up early for school was taking its toll.  We needed something to spark us out of that rut.  Eagle Beach was the answer.

The girls were ready for an adventure.  Decked out in rain gear, we brought our buckets and nets, ready to play in, or with, whatever we found.

We've learned not to wait for a sunny day; rain be damned, we were going.  And miraculously it stopped raining for the three hours or so we were there.

I can only imagine what this view must be like on a clear day because even on a cloudy, overcast one, it was break taking.

This pretty much summed up our goal for the day - go with whatever the moment provided and find happy.  Addy found it in the mud.  She is absolutely cracking up after slipping and sliding her way through the mud.  She's filthy and loving it.

Making a mud angel

So very muddy.  So very happy.

Cora found her happy in discovery.  Literally jumping for joy that there was so much to explore. 

It was low tide when we got there and salmon skeletons littered the beach.  There was a small ick factor to it, but greatly offset by the wow factor.  We marveled at the different sizes, the sheer number of them, the various stages of decay.

Cora found these bubbles and was absolutely convinced they were salmon eggs.  She was so proud of her discovery.  She made us promise not to step on them.

So I don't know the official reason this place is named Eagle Beach but I'm thinking it's the obvious answer.  

One picture, 3 adult eagles and I'm thinking 2 younger eagles that haven't grown into their distinguished white feathers yet.  Amazing.

Even more amazing when you consider there are these two knuckleheads running all over, screaming and laughing as they jump in puddles and squish in the mud.

To let them run...

They really were in their elements.  True happiness.  This picture from the very last minutes we were there really captures it.  Cora and her imagination, with a stick she transformed into a "harbingererer" that carried her, I'm thinking like a witch's broom, across the beach.  And Addy just letting loose, rolling her way down the hill and across the muck.

Thank you, Eagle Beach.