Monday, April 20, 2020

vitamin sea

I looked out of the window this morning and then - sotto voice - called for the girls to quickly run over. About thirty feet away, beyond the garden fence on a slope of browned grass, was a delicately grey wallaby. (Or baby kangaroo. I'm still not good at telling. It was a hopping creature with large dark eyes.)

There are many things I love about our new home - looking up at night to see the smudgy pale and brightnesses that is the Milky Way. The lovely gifts my husband gets as a country GP - mandarine jam, date scones, honey, crab. The changing light on the hills outside.

But I miss the sea. And I miss home. And sometimes it feels very far away. (A twenty-two hour drive away, to be precise. Pretty much Edinburgh to Barcelona.)

These photos are old - a year or two ago - from a half finished blog I never posted - and I look at my wild ones in the long-ago, so vibrant and unconstrained on the beach I love so much, and oo and ah over how they've grown and changed, but I look most at the shores of home and wonder when I will return. And I am so grateful that I had that time, I have those memories, to keep me company now, when I am landlocked and so far from home.


Words are hard to tumble together at the moment. The chaos of constrained wild ones and lost of change unravels me. There are so many moments of delight and so many moments I'm pulling my hair, sometimes at the same time. But here are photos of my solace and my joy from the quiet before my loves awaken.