Color, Light, and the Turning Year at Orange Beach

Every year, my family and I have a tradition of taking a long, relaxing weekend trip just after Christmas, stretching into the New Year. This year, we decided to try Orange Beach — and it turned out to be exactly what my soul needed.

The condo we stayed in sat right on the Gulf, with panoramic views that carried us from sunrise to sunset each day. No matter how much I love Christmas — and I truly do, especially time spent with family — there is something uniquely restorative about our New Year’s trip. There’s no pressure to make anything happen. No expectations. We simply step outside and enjoy the world as it is.

Our first night in Orange Beach was chilly. After a full day of driving, we arrived just in time to catch the sunset. My husband, my son, his best friend, and I clambered down to the beach to explore and watch the light show unfold. The colors were vibrant and intense — so saturated they felt unreal. It was like a fever dream, a psychedelic play of color, gifted straight from God.

Over the course of the weekend, we walked in the sun, laughed at each other’s bad jokes, and ate far too much seafood. We spent an entire day at Gulf State Park riding bikes, and that day might have been my favorite. I loved the feeling of freedom — the wind in my hair, the light drizzle on my cheeks, and the strength in my legs as I pedaled along wooden piers through the marsh. It felt elemental and grounding in the best possible way.

We indulged in big scoops of ice cream from a local creamery called Dell’s, eaten while overlooking a tourist T-shirt shop crowned by a giant purple octopus. We leaned fully into the pleasures of cheesy New Year’s celebrations — a beach ball drop at noon, a marlin drop at midnight in an outdoor mall, a Ferris wheel blinking against the dark sky, and even a camel giving rides along the promenade. We drank strong cocktails poured by frazzled bartenders and listened to a truly excellent cover band.

Mornings were slow and quiet. Coffee on the balcony. The steady sound of the surf. I swear I could feel the negative ions from the ocean working their magic. I watched my guys fish from both the pier and the beach, content just to observe. At night, we left the sliding door cracked open so the sound of the waves could follow us to sleep.

I took countless photos — and insisted that my husband and son share theirs too, since they are admittedly much better photographers than I am. The beauty of the place, the sense of calm, and the joy of being relaxed with some of my favorite people in the world left me deeply inspired.

I’m now working on a collection of paintings inspired by this trip, and I can’t wait to share them with you as they take shape. I’ll be updating this post with images as the work unfolds. In the meantime, I’ve included a few photos from our trip below. If there’s something you see — a moment, a color, a detail — that you think I must paint, I’d love to hear from you.