out my door and steps away. on the seawall. fresh sea air, green trees, deep breaths.
for as long as i can recall, my parents have told me about the long walks along the seawall, with me as a wee babe in the pram. cold winter days, blustery wind, warm sheepskin keeping the chill out... and then the time when at 4 months old i touched the dirt with my small feet for the very first time. again, on the seawall, with salt sea air, pram nearby... these stories (and a sort of visceral sense of having been here before) come forth each time i walk along this seaside path. deep breaths, feeling blessed.
....been there before, and cherish the place every time i go back there, my memory of those days you're talking about still clear: bright moments, ancient to the future...x....jc
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