As the last of the day’s light fades, I notice two sets of footprints in the sand. They are freshly made. Their stride is short, suggesting the slowest of walks along a beach recently made flat by a receding ocean. They have a symmetry, a unison, a connection. They have a story. In places they seem to converge; to merge.…
It has been a few years since we decided not to have a real Christmas tree. Our decision was not a comment on the bizarre ritual of placing a dead tree in the middle of your home, but rather on the practicalities of the exercise. However much you may enjoy your first days in the…
She is walking next to me right now. The setting sun has long since disappeared from view but, in a final blaze of glory, sends gold and orange ribbons spraying into the sky. Our feet are lapped by the Atlantic Ocean; toes sinking slightly into the damp sand as we stroll along the beach. We…
Journeys And 