magic

We have always been the kind of family who gathers around the table, not the television, so it's only logical that one of the things I look forward to most about summertime is evening dinners on the back porch. When you live at the beach, you have no shortage of visitors during the warmer months. We like to take full advantage of the balmy breezes, the longer days, and the carefree attitude only summertime can bring. It's all about mismatched linens, flickering tea-lights, and the warm honey color the sky turns as the sun begs to stay and play for just a few more minutes. 


Of course it's a beautiful sight to see, but all the other senses get wrapped up in the experience too. It's the smell saltwater, jasmine, and beef tenderloin sizzling away on the grill. It's the thumping sound of beanbags hitting the cornhole boards in the side yard, and the music that plays softly in the background is only half as sweet as the sound of laughter that rings out from the kitchen. It's the sting of fresh sun on your shoulders and the old, familiar rub of sand between your toes. From the first bite of crusty, French bread to the last sip of wine that still dances on your tongue, it is magical, it is heavenly, it is home. More than anything, though, it's the lingering after the meal has ended. All the plates have been cleared, but nobody is ready to leave. The warmth that you feel has nothing to do with sunburn or wine: it's love.