Less than three hours later as we gassed up the car under a large sign reading “Gateway to the Redwoods” we widened our eyes to the switchbacks on the map that lay ahead, impressed and thrilled it was going to take us almost an hour to go 19 miles.
So when we moved to California, and suddenly had not just a beach, but an enormous rugged coastline in our backyard at our constant disposal, it seemed a trivial detail that the waters were ankle achingly frigid year round, the waves intimidatingly dangerous at almost every shore, and the wind bone chilling half the year.
In an uncertain time in the history of the world, we were given the gift of being able to see our path forward with startling clarity, remaining steadfast and united in our decision; only asking (confirming) to one another occasionally in the haven of a dark bedroom right before falling asleep, "We're crazy for doing this, right?"
Warm summer evenings in California, featuring the pinafore style backless Girona Dress in Indigo.
Many pause to stare at the Golden Gate Bridge, yet just over the ridge lies another world easily overlooked; a serene beach with crashing waves and dark sand contrasted by bright white sea foam.
In Germany we lived in the top three floors of a pale yellow five story house with clay shingles, snuggled in a row of historic homes. We were literally in the middle of our picturesque Bavarian town, a part of the Alstadt...