Monday, November 22, 2010


When we found this driftwood on the beach the other day, my 3 year old nephew reacted as though we had discovered some sort of washed up pirate treasure. Maybe he was right. I'd like to think so.

I love driftwood for it's simple smooth aged look. It reminds me of dinosaur bones displayed at the museum. My husband knowing me so well will say, "You want me to take the driftwood home." not as a question, but as a statement.
I like to ponder which shore it came from. Perhaps it traveled from a far off coast where a child once spent a summer climbing a tree to which it belonged. Or maybe it was once part of a tree that provided shade to an old fisherman as he lived out his old age on the shore in his beach house feeding sea gulls in the morning. Or maybe it came from just an ordinary tree on some other coast and wasn't anything special....until I found it.

"At the beach, life is different. Time doesn't move hour to hour but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides and follow the sun." --- Unknown

Sealed with a Kiss, Kirsten