The Making of Mesa

Our latest, greatest colorway is here after a summer of wilderness and wonder! Meet Mesa, a tribute to big skies, blooming yucca, and falling in love with the world all over again.

Like most parents, for the past almost two years my heart has been consumed with worry, mostly about the kids. I’ve worried about their mental health and their physical health. I was worried that with so much distance between us and our sweet community, so little contact from the ones we love, they wouldn’t meet milestones and or make friends. More than anything, I worried that my housebound children wouldn’t get the chance to fall madly, deeply, and desperately in love with the world around them. For a good chunk of their young lives now, the world has been a bit scary. Sometimes, it’s been forbidden to them.

This summer, we drove from Nashville, TN to Nipomo, CA where my family lives. It’s a 2,128.8 mile journey if you go straight there, but of course, we didn’t. We gave ourselves eight weeks to get there and back. We wanted to see anything and everything so I planned and planned and planned, choreographing every sight we’d see and spot we’d hit for lunch. The closer we got to pulling out of the driveway though, the less I wanted to leave. The kids were ready for anything but after over a year spent mostly in the protection of our little pink house, stepping out into an enormous, unpredictable world was terrifying for me.

I was scared the entire time, scared that we would run out of gas (we did), that our plans would change and we wouldn’t be able to make our reservations (they did), that our car would break down completely (yep, that too). There was a tornado watch on our second night out and record breaking heat waves the rest of the time. Even with the protection of my spreadsheets and meal plans and lists, nothing went the way we thought it would.

I had to let go, push through the fear, change the plans, adapt to the weather and keep going. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. The more I trusted myself, the more the “trip” became an adventure. Without departures, check in protocols, and dinner plans, we were truly able to explore. I found myself falling madly, deeply, and desperately in love with our world all over again.

The pace was frenetic. We did enough things in a single day for it to feel like three. And we did it for two months straight, barely staying anywhere longer than a couple of nights (except for when our car broke down). I have never seen so many magical, inspiring, impossibly beautiful things in my life. There was a new wonder waiting everytime we turned our head, fresh air with every breath, it felt that way for all of us.

The kids did massive hikes, a normal day was around four miles but in Nevada they made it ten! We went on forever long bike rides, swam in freezing cold water, hot springs, and hidden mountain lakes. We walked in slot canyons, hugged tree giants, explored Native American ruins, and chased sunsets. Sure, we skipped showers for weeks, sat in the car for hours, neglected our emails, and didn’t eat until 10pm, but with a world full of snakes, eagles, petrified wood, dinosaur bones, and blooming yucca to marvel over, we went to bed excited to open our eyes in the morning and look around.

All of this to say, the world is just as beautiful and easy to love as it was when we all had to step away from it. Kids still love banana slugs and Joshua trees. The sky is still expansive and the city still looks like a bunch of Lego from the top of a mountain. We saw it, we felt it, we were immersed in the smells, sounds, and climates. We came home with bigger hearts, bigger minds, and wide open eyes.

Mesa is my best attempt at the impossible, capturing the miracle of falling in love with the world all over again. I hope it reminds you of the wilderness and wonder that await and when you meet them. If you’re consumed with worry like I was, I hope that soon you’ll be overwhelmed with joy.

PLAYS WELL WITH…