There was a period of my adult married life with young children when I lived in Florida, not my native New England. My Thanksgivings were spent in the timeless season of tropical beaches. I had a full time private counseling practice and small children. Quiet time for reflective walks - this was a terrible need of mine then, which, for practical purposes, I rarely indulged. One Thanksgiving morning, despite all the pressures of the day ahead, preparing the meal, caring for children, cleaning the house, setting the table - I woke before sunrise and drove a few short miles to Clearwater Beach. I brought my journal. I sat gratefully alone on the white perfection of sand and watched the sun rise over the Gulf of Mexico. Today, I could resurrect the journal entry I wrote that day, but I know without opening that dusty notebook what I felt and intended. That attending to my SELF in the presence of natural beauty is essential nourishment. What I didn't know then, as a young mother, was how bountiful my time for spirit walks would some day become. So, to the young mother on the beach, the journal writer, the woman, I want to say thanks this Thanksgiving. For making time to sustain your spirit when it felt like you had so little time to spare - and trusting your family, your husband, the universe could handle you making this time just for you on a day when there is always too much to do for others.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar, 2016