Yesterday, Cedar had a very late nap, which meant he would go to bed later than usual. So, we took him to the beach to run out the energy in his bones.
It was dark but moonlit. Stars were twinkling brighter than usual. The horizon was a midnight blue dipped in plum. There were only a few others on the beach as well...far enough away to where you could hardly see them. Silhouettes from a distance. I stayed back as my boys walked into the shallow water. Cedar was up top Boho Boy's shoulders. He walked out until his calves were soaked under. Cedar's voice echoed with each wave.
I wanted to walk the shores or to run but they were too far for them to hear me. The waves were crashing loud. I knew if I left, he would wonder where I had gone and it was dark enough to feel lost from one another.
So I took a deep breath and decided to stand still, be present in the moment, tilting my face up to the midnight sky. But I still had to move. So I danced. I really danced. I had no idea if people could see me from a distance...those silhouettes, dipping their toes into the water, hand in hand. I decided not to care. I twirled a bit, threw my hands out, swayed from side to side. Even got a bit groovy. I had my own rhythm in my head. It felt freeing. Being in, REALLY in Mother Nature releases your inhibitions, doesn't it? There is a sense of home and belonging. We are meant to be there. Ocean, sand, moon, stars, dance. It all makes sense.
Then I imagined what it would be like to walk around seeing more people dance in the moonlight. The thought made me tear up. What a beautiful sight that would be. Perhaps someone who reads this will do it tonight. I hope.