green rolling hills + wild seas

Sitting here on the back deck of my in-law’s beach house, watching the girls playing happily in the blow up paddle pool. A cicada chorus hangs in the air, along with thoughts of summer days, new plans unfolding and the promise of a fresh year beginning.

I had so much hinging on Christmas and this holiday. During all my hard work studying and immersing myself in Yoga philosophy and practice in 2017 I was looking ahead, to the reward, imagining all the making and flourish associated with Christmas, followed by these blissful weeks spent amongst the trees and by the ocean. A moment to pause.

And yet tomorrow, we head home. I start my new job on Monday, two days a week at a not-for-profit I’m incredibly passionate and excited about, and I begin teaching yoga in a few weeks. A new chapter is gently yet persistently unfolding and with that there are new rhythms to establish. Time rolls on, reminding us we are alive, reminding us there is no time like the present.

Aside from work and yoga, my mind has been ticking away (as usual), running through all the things I want to make under my little #birdiesaid banner on @suburban_dreaming this year. I’m thinking more hats for big and small and smaller people clothing, of course, but also some larger human attire too. My dreams are filled with vintage blush and rust coloured linen, delicate florals and, naturally, wool.

The Pixie is starting school this year, and with two children at school and just one little one left at home, life will look very different for twelve months. Without having to rush off to kinder, I’m planning on more days spent walking to school, quality time with my little number three and I will be making a real effort to relish this quiet year. The following we will be back to the kinder and school combo meaning multiple drop offs and pick ups, and less time with my growing clan.

So I open this new year with sunshine in my head and a smile on my face, but also with the trepidation that comes with change. I know myself well enough now, though, to know that everything passes, nothing is unchangeable, and for me, there is always an element of discomfort even with change of the best kind.

And for now, just for now, I’ll say goodbye to the dusty blues of the ocean, to the salty scent on my children’s skin, to slow and aimless days, to sheltering from the sun at midday, to early dinners and late bedtimes… and hello home, hello new rhythms, hello to the remainder of the school holidays, to a few more slow days, to new beginnings, to fresh projects, dreams and plans.

But, oh, will those green rolling hills, dark and wild seas, and pale blue skies tug at my heart, at the very essence of me, until we meet again…