it was a lot of this. the sun rising over the mist-covered fields in the morning. infinite skies with giant clouds drifting by (look, mama, two dragons kissing, look mama, an elephant with a dog on its tail, look, mama! look). flocks of geese, ducks, seagulls drifting by on the wind. rain. sunshine. rain. sunshine. the wind, whistling endlessly through the house, through my head, through my babies' hair. the wind, suddenly dying, and the thickness of the silence. so much more than an absence of sound. the grass, holding the dunes down, the grass like the fur on a scraggly wolf's back, so soft from a distance, so strong and rough in our hands, as we clambered, and slipped. the grass with its oranges, greens, ochres, yellows, greys, blues, purples, browns, greys. the sun setting in the sea. at 4:15. or thereabouts. sitting with my son, on the top of the top of the dune, planted in the wolf's fur, staring out at the sea. day after long day. and the moon, right behind us, lit as if from within. growing rounder and rounder. night after dark restful night.
and then, back at the house, dear friends, good food, a fire in the fireplace, rosy cheeks, hot meals, and lots and lots of laughter.
