Birsay

There is this causeway off the northwestern coast of mainland Orkney that only appears when the tide is out. Twice a day it rises out of the ocean and you can walk along its slippery path to Birsay, where there are some viking ruins and occasionally puffins. This is looking back toward mainland.

I'm pretty much in love with this picture.

Do you see right there a little to the right of center, that turquoise seaweed stuff? Yeah. And closer in the foreground, the white spots against the rocks? Tiny, perfect seashells. And way back in the distance, the cliffs of mainland and the endless clouds? Exactly.

I've been thinking a bit about what I want out of life. I have always been afraid of plan B, because you only get just this one chance and if you don't go with what you really want to do well...then you've given up, haven't you? I've never wanted to be just okay with my life, to be merely content.

I went to Ornkey only a few weeks after I closed the door on what I had always thought was plan A, a little broken inside and a whole lot of numb. On our second day there, I sat across the table from Mr. Awesome in the little cafe near Skarra Brae, drinking hot soup and dripping seawater onto the floor. He was still raving about the viking ruins we had seen that morning at Birsay, and the crazy picture we took of him straddling a crack in the massive cliffs. My fingers were frozen from picking seashells out of the icy water and my hair was a windblown mess not even a mother could love. I was so much more than content.

I was nearly in tears as I took this picture. When I got my hands on him afterward, I didn't know whether to hug him or nut him. I think I tried both at once.

"...sweat, tears, or the sea."