Sunshine on St. Piran’s Day

The sun came out yesterday and brought with it the promise of springtime.
It always makes me think of the sea.
I think you never stop missing the sea when you grow up with it. I hear it sometimes in my dreams and think I catch its smell on the wind when it blows in from the west.

Homesickness is a funny sensation – its like the ache of grief wrapped in the golden glow of nostalgia. And the warmth of that kind of melancholy is seductive; it draws you in the way that an alcoholic aches for just one more drink…
Reality just doesn’t quite have that same delight.

Still I have spring cleaning and new museum work to do. No rest for the wicked.


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