Not even a week in our new home in Charleston, South Carolina, and we are feeling the peace and slowness that comes with being happy. Loving the low country with all our being. Sinking into what it feels like to be here. Be these people, the people we’re turning into by creating a life here.
One day, instead of unpacking or setting anything up or other respectable things, we headed to the beach. The same day it was 35 degrees back in Chicago.
The boys got to know the sand. This East Coast sand, southern roots deep inside it like stories waiting to be told. And written.
The tide is so high at one point in the day, that during the afternoon the sand is packed and cool, easy for handstands and running. Nice for mama to keep the babies clean (ish), too.
Yet more proof he’s just like his daddy. Handstand form is identical.
While we’ve had our struggles with lack of routine and schedule, chaotic plethora of boxes and bins and things stealing the kids’ sanity, this day was just for soaking in the sun, our new southern sun, and taking flight in that warmth.
It just gets brighter and brighter.