One of my favorite parts of summer is my daily sunrise yoga practice at Lake Harriet. Friday morning was particularly glorious: a cool, late summer breeze, pink-tinged clouds, the lonely screech of sea gulls and clank of sailboat moorings. It was all so beautiful I had to pull out my iPhone to take a picture. I’m so glad I did. I want to remember that August morning long after the snow flies.
Sunday morning. A beautiful sunrise over the bluffs and the bittersweet end to our time away. The sweetness lies in knowing that the best adventure is the life we make together every day. No matter what, it is always good to come home.
“They’re coming!” Sawyer exclaimed. And they were. Thousands of sandhill cranes rising up from the marsh, soaring over our tent cloaked with the golden light of morning. We nearly blew away during the night. But at some point in our dreamtime, the fierce winds gave way to a sky full of diamonds and the kind of calm that can only be known after a storm.