birthday beaching

Twenty-six snuck up on me this year, back in November.  Tucked in between exams and commutes, the chance to memorialize another year of blessings almost slipped by unnoticed. 

But beauty called, and Mark had the good sense to help me answer.  

We walked for several hours, and I learned that these birds are called sandpipers and a wheat-like grass grows on the beach.

A drenched little butterfly washed up out of the ocean a few feet ahead of us.  Mark tried to save many similar butterflies as a child, but none had ever survived, he said.  We stooped to pick it up, careful not to touch its wings despite the sand that glimmered on its delicate surfaces.

We would try to save this little one anyway.    

I don't know whether the little butterfly has the stamina to recover its turmoil; we left it perched on a sign, sunning and drying.  So fragile, so hopeful, I said a little prayer for it.  G-d cares for even the sparrows, and surely, this little one too.

(From the camera archives...)

It was a beautiful birthday, one of the many thousands of blessings I have been given.

#22-29 of the thousands of blessings
~ a thoughtful and adventurous fiance
~ visiting with our families for the holidays
~ safe travels
~ fresh and real snow for skiing with Mark's dad, my first black diamond
~ our parents and their example of dealing with great challenges
~ a warm bed & good night stories
~ thoughtful neighbors who drop casseroles by
~ a fun evening with some of Mark's high school friends