It’s been so very wet here lately – which is fine by me most of the time. There is nothing better than hearing rain when you stir from a dream in the night. And rainy weekend mornings are usually just my speed. But come Sunday afternoon, we were a little cabin fever-y. So we put on our rain coasts and hats and took our chances on a hike. When the path opened up to the Bay, everything looked soft and fairy tale-ish in the quiet mist.
The rocks and branches and trees were muted and quiet-colored except for the bright hits of new grass.
We found a secret beach and scrambled over bowling ball-size rocks, then climbed up the tallest rock on the beach and watched and listened as the waves crashed thunderously below.
It was a soft and lovely Sunday.