Somewhere between shift change and shoreline, life happens quietly.
It happens in the soft return home after a long day.
In the way the garden grows without asking much.
In the stretch of sand under a sky you didn’t know you needed.
In the steady rhythm of showing up—to work, to life, to yourself.
This space—Sand Between Shifts—is where I’ve come to share that kind of living.

I work in healthcare, a profession that asks a lot of you. It asks for precision, presence, and strength. But beyond the hospital walls, there’s another rhythm I try to keep: quiet mornings, small projects, meals shared out, books stacked on the nightstand, coastal air, rooting into home.
Here, I’ll write about the life that exists between it all.
Not the highlight reel, not the burnout badge, not the pressure to be constantly productive—just the simple texture of a life that is both intense and ordinary. Some days I’ll reflect on work. Other days, I may write about the beach, a book, or something blooming in the yard. Sometimes there may be stories—about healing, exhaustion, gratitude, or even a really good crab cake.
If you’ve found your way here, I’m glad you have.
Welcome.
