Setting Sail

Drafts are an interesting thing. Today I found the feature to search my blog for unpublished posts, and there were just under ten. That's about ten things I forgot to post, for whatever reason, but were worth the time to write. Should they stay unpublished? This one - about the ferry home from France in October - felt like the right time to finish it properly:

I was eagerly rushing back to England in preparation for the Police Check for my new job, to find that they hadn't even been sent off yet and, since then, I've had a few sufferable months waiting. How does it tie in?


I wrote this originally two months ago:

"I'm not a sea person, probably more a coast/beach-type, but I do like the idea of vast space and the freedom of the waves in front of me."



Without remembering that sentence, that's the point I was going to make. Keiko made the observation that I'm the most relaxed near the coast. Mountains are fine, as is city life, but there's something cathartic and releasing about being near the edge of land. Maybe it's growing up in Bournemouth - I wonder if I would've been a sailor if I grew up in Poole? - but I think it's the adventure, the possibilities that are past the horizon.

Recently I've been walking to my Grandma's flat along the overcliff. At night, without looking carefully, the water and sky merge and create a vision of deep nothingness until a faint glow comes into focus and divides the two. I like the idea that there is all that space to escape to, to discover, and all that unknowing out there - here's the important part - if I ever wanted to. As I said, I'm not big on the sea itself but it's comforting that it's there. If.

I haven't really explained it, I suppose, but it ties in with pretty much how life goes.

All that adventure.

All those possibilities.