Over the river, through the woods, past the ocean bay, along a stretch land barely wider than the road, and almost into the ocean at the end of the Spit. We stumbled out of our vehicles– all seven from their van, one me from my Civic, and one Grandma from her car – and started playing. I mean, it felt like playing. We played with sparkly party blowouts, waved pinwheels in the breeze, cuddled our stuffed animals, and explored the beach under the pier. Gracie spirited in the wind with all the energy of a three-year-old, dancing along the beach and narrowly missing a crash into the waves. Mollie cuddled with mom or grandma or sister or brother, infatuated with the little yellow ducky named Kitty that I had brought along to share. Ellie was as cute as a button in her maxi dress, making my job insanely easy. And the boys? Well, the boys found the path along the beach under the pier and to the hidden cove on the other side. I just wish I could’ve followed.
Semiahmoo Spit is their home-away-from-home in the summer, and I think it would be mine, too, if I lived a little closer. You should see it on the map – it’s just a sliver of land surrounded by water. We laughed and cuddled and smiled and explored and played and danced. Oh, and we took photos. Lots and lots of photos. (And if you look closely, you’ll see Mount Baker in the background — my favorite mountain with seven of my favorite people on my new favorite corner of Washington State.)