lucky

If we weren't already so lucky we could burst, we are, right this minute, enjoying ANOTHER gift.

We're spending a few nights away, invited to stay at a beach house with my mother, my mother's partner and my mother's partner's son. A house with an ocean view, so you can see the waves rolling in, the curve of the bay, and the clouds change colour over the headland as the sun sets.

A house with a river nearby, so we can travel a pockmarked dirt road to a stretch of rocks and cliffs overlooking the water, and swim the river up and down, and my son and husband can leap from a cliff into the water below. (Photos to come!)

A house with room for all of us and comfy couches, so my mum can snooze on one couch as I write, my husband nap in a bedroom, my son sit on another couch playing Doodlejump on his dad's iPhone, and my daughter sit at the dining table rewriting the story of Dewey the Library Cat from the point of view of Dewey. The others napping, or walking on the beach. So peaceful.

Everyone in their own good space. Everyone happy. Sharing something beautiful. Not just the location, which is stunning, but the company and the laughter. I am lucky: I know. I feel lucky.

The wind is shifting; you can see the trees bend outside and the whitecaps on the sea. People are stirring; my daughter is sharing her story with her Nana, my son is describing his game. Voices outside. It's time I re-entered the world of our holiday… but I just wanted to share. The peace. The simple joy.