I grew up climbing trees. Days were spent running around outside until dusk: biking around the neighborhood, wading into the local pond, building a raft for the lake, playing soccer in the pouring rain and mud (hi Seattle). I was always dirty at the end of the day, scrubbed down by my mother, fed something hot, tucked into bed. Exactly how childhood should be (well done, Mom!).
Will grew up falling over — a family tradition. Falling out of trees, into lakes, off of stepping stones and improbably, for a family of accomplished fallers, he spent a lot of time on his grandfather’s sail boat. If he wasn’t getting lashed with rain, he was getting pummeled by a wave!
When we met, we lived in Maine for a summer. We hiked the last bit of the Appalachian Trail, biked 60-100 miles for fun (my first time in jean shorts, not recommended), played basketball against each other and then jumped into the lake before the 9 PM sunset.
I don’t know where we lost our sense of adventure and love for the outdoors along the way but we did. Was it work overwhelm? Did we lose it in pursuit of a beautiful, aesthetic life which involves a lot of behind the scenes to photograph?
A driving factor for our move to Martha’s Vineyard for this year is to get it back, for us and for our children. Now more than ever we plan to reclaim our love of nature and being active — to us, it is one of the most important components of a beautiful life.
We plan to spend a lot of time exploring in all weather, learning how to cook with fire outside (see above) and X but this doesn’t mean that we will forgo luxury. We’re figuring out how to balance our less flexible, older selves who are accustomed to a bit of comfort with our wild, younger hearts. Ideas welcome! X