Despite this being my second day home after our month long visit to the UK, I find myself still suffering for a kind of double vision. I’m here but my thoughts are also overlapping with the recent memories of being ‘back home’. Spring has finally made herself known here in the frozen north, after a long, long winter, but the greening has not quite caught up with the warm and verdant south west coast yet. We have a few weeks…
Sometimes there are no words for things. Usually these are either extremely bad or extremely good, this particular day was the latter. It was a day of so many surprises it felt like my brain couldn’t register them all. First my sister arrived on the Friday (squeal!) and then took me off to the hairdressers on Saturday morning for a much needed haircut. She really should be a stylist or something, I don’t know how I’ve managed up until now….
It’s been an awfully long time since I wrote. While I wish I could say I’d been doing something terribly exciting, like leading an expedition to chart a lost underground world inhabited by Flumps. Or perhaps had been kidnapped and forced to slowly eat my way through nine hundred pounds of cinder toffee in order to save the world from an alien race intent on crippling the planet with overwhelming dental costs. Unfortunately, no. I’ve just been really really busy…
One of the things I have missed, right down to my very bones, has been living by the sea. There is nothing, nothing, like the feeling of walking along the shore line; the freshness of the air, the openness of the sky, pure bliss. We’d originally only intended to pop to the beach for half and hour or so, but the burning blue sky and the fresh wind beckoned us on. We leaned into the wind, walking up the hillside…