Rituals of Softness & Salty Air: A Coastal Picnic & Market Morning

Living close (enough) to the water is a gift that I try my best not to take for granted. Something about the ocean has a way of calming me down so much and reminding me of how small I am in comparison to, well...everything.

I try to get out to the coast as often as possible, and yesterday, we decided to pack a picnic and head out to the water.

I wore my favorite soft blue sweater, loose linen pants, and brought along the floral-lined picnic basket that makes me feel like I'm living in a painting. We drove out to the edge of Marin, where the sky was just moody enough to feel cinematic, and the wildflowers swayed with that perfectly lazy, coastal wind.

There’s something deeply grounding about laying out a quilt on the sand, unpacking fresh bread and fruit, and letting time stretch. No rushing, no agenda. Just the sea, and the snacks, and someone you love.

Beach Picnic Essentials

Here’s what we packed for our little coastal picnic:

• Gluten-free sandwiches with vegan butter and thinly sliced radishes

• A bowl of fresh berries

• Homemade lemon bars dusted with powdered sugar and edible flowers

• Crunchy pickles

• Siete chips + creamy hummus

• Red pesto for dipping and spreading

• Apple juice for a little nostalgic sweetness

  
  

We spread it all out on my antique quilt and layered cozy blankets to keep the breeze at bay. Everything felt a little softer, a little slower, a little sweeter.

Outfit Details: sweater - thrifted, linen pants - Banana Republic

Earlier that morning, I stopped by the farmer’s market to pick up a few things for our picnic as well as my home reset ritual:

• fresh strawberries and blackberries

• radishes

• pickles

• local olive oil

• coconut cream ice cream

• gluten free sourdough

• a bunch of tulips and hellebore, still dewy from the field

You can see all of this in my recent vlog on my Marigold Manor video below.

I’ve been trying to make this a weekly practice — a slow Sunday morning, a market stroll, and a reset of the senses. A bouquet on the table, greens in the fridge, windows open to let in the air. It’s how I remind myself that life can be both simple and beautiful.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much of our lives as women are built on small, quiet rituals. Not the grand declarations, but the hands-in-dough, flowers-in-a-jar, walk-through-the-market kind of days. There’s a softness in that rhythm — in caring for ourselves, our homes, and the people we love in ways that often go unnoticed. It’s not about perfection, or even productivity. It’s about presence. And there’s something so powerful about that.

If you're needing a reminder to step outside, to make a moment out of the ordinary — this is it. Make the sandwich. Grab the blanket. Take your time. There’s magic waiting in the softness of a day you give back to yourself.

From the coast with love,

xx

F.