sweater weather

The sea has been tinged with an unfamiliar opaqueness, making the aqua water seem denser, heavier. Like when using a mineral sunscreen and finding yourself coated in a white film, the ocean's palette of blues holds a different weight, more aquamarine than sapphire. It's a trickledown effect from northern storms, cold fronts stir the ocean with swells and disturb the sediment, while also bringing delicious cooler weather.

In this fleeting season when the temperature can hover in the mornings and evenings around 70°, I get to wear jeans and, sometimes, a sweatshirt. (Cozy sweaters were one of my favorite things about living in Connecticut in the winter.) This special treat is reminiscent of a first popsicle of summer, when the pool was still freezing but you swam in it anyways, and after playing games of Marco Polo and Jaws for hours, you'd wrap your chilled body in a warm towel and suck on the sugary ice, letting the purple juice drip down your chin but trying not to let it stain your towel. Or the smell of a wood burning fire escaping a nearby chimney as you picked up sticks while your dad raked leaves and made piles so you and your sisters could jump into them. These simple seasonal gifts, from past and present, lead me into and out of memory, weaving a nest egg of small delights.

Happily in our "new" home and in basking in the brief window of sweater weather, I realize I've already planted some seasonal sensorial seeds. Moments of time, snap shots, my very own time capsule of recordings.

The rare frog song after a gooey rain, not quite coquis but close enough.

The low lying winter sun's orbit which offers more shadow than sunlight onto our pool, making it more of a cold plunge as opposed to summer's bath tub feel.

The winter tiding of Tropicbirds calling to and dancing with their mates just beyond our craggy rocks.

The wind chime music merging with the bubbling flow of our fountain that calms all woe.

The tart magenta taste of the Turk's Cap Cactus fruit I pluck when I find them around our property.

The delicate scent of heaven creeping up from the jasmine by our entry as dusk falls.

And to then imprint these soul satisfying musings with the visits with kids and friends only adds to the stock pile of reverent gratitude. Like Harry reading Crime and Punishment in the living room swing, focused and playful as always; Elsa making delectable fried eggs for a noon time breakfast, using every pan in the kitchen; Hugh drinking his morning coffee looking out at the Atlantic in the temple developing his script; helping curious turtles find their way out of the dining room after feeding them bananas (and boy do they have digest things fast); hanging rose colored string lights under the temple's slatted ceiling- it only took 5 of us; doing the NYT Spelling Bee with Dave on the Goodnight Moon couch before church; Margo adding each sofa and daybed to her ample dog bed collection; a morning sound bath in the living room after a a big night out; vision boarding with friends around the dining table; sitting under the newly planted and secured palm trees with Dave, closing my eyes as the wind rustles through and shares her story.

It's only been a little over 3 months since we moved in, since we've rooted. The list of things to finish still exists, oh the lists.. the lists. But I'm remembering to bathe in what we've created (even with my hormone induced overthinking and lack of sleeping) and I'm inspired to create more, meditate more, dream more. And as of today (2/17/26) we've finally shed our wood snake skins and made space to run and champion our dreams with the fire horse and we also have a new moon and a solar eclipse in the sign of Aquarius offering us all a chance to plant new seeds and realize deeper, individual and collective dreams that push the boundaries of our thinking and stretch our imagination around new structures, all the while inviting us to be compassionate and helpful humans. So how's that for a day to post my musings?

Wishing you all a little time today to pause, reflect and feel into some sparkling moments that make your heart sing.

With prayers of rooting and prospering (especially for our palm trees),

St. Sunshine