This past Saturday we went on an adventure to Greenport, NY. After waking up bright and early, we drove two hours south to New London, CT where we met up with my parents and took a ferry boat across the Long Island Sound to Greenport, NY. There, we visited family and played at a private little beach where the water was just right for hours of swimming. The beach was quiet with small waves and there were little orange shells and other beach treasures covering the sand. After a beautiful lunch of lobster, corn salad, fresh tomatoes, potato salad, and the peach cobbler, we strolled through town, went on a super zoom carousel, hugged good-bye, and drove to the ferry port to wait for our boat.
While at the port, I was wrangling some pajamas on Mouse, and Chick and Tom discovered a little beach that was covered - COVERED - in rounded, smooth, beautiful stones of all sizes and colors . I almost died. In my neck of the woods, it sometimes takes me weeks to find the right stone, and here I was face-to-face with millions of stones that are perfect for making story stones. I grabbed a bucket and some bags and filled them to the brim with stones. The ferry traffic director people thought I was wacko because I kept crossing in front of streams of exiting cars to plop my enormous bags of stones into my trunk. There was sweat and fast running and probably an embarrassing look of determination on my face. But, who cares, right? I have enough stones to last me years and years and years. Oh, and there was also the most beautiful sky and pinkish moon. The evening felt magical.
After we boarded the boat, Chick fell asleep in my arms with the ocean spray blowing onto her hair and me covering her with a sweatshirt to warm her. Miss Mouse faked us out with a big dramatic interpretation of sleep when really she just wanted to stay awake for the entire ride so she could point to the water and say "Bubbles. More Bubbles."
Here are some of the stones that were not gathered up into one of my totes.
The ferry boat.
The next day, the girls' hair smelled like the sea, which made me wistful since I know it won't be until next summer that we will frolic in it again.