Sunday 27 January 2013

The sea, the sea

And now I'm back in the UK and it's January. The snow is melting today and the sun is out. Christmas has come and gone and thirteen is the number I must remember and can't.

 I didn't ride the west coast train. I didn't go inland to the Mojave. I only went to Hollywood on one evening look-see and I won't need to go again. California was interesting, but not for the reasons I thought it might be.

I did cook a kind of nut roast for Thanksgiving. I did sit on the beach and get soaked to the skin by an unexpected wave hitting a rock and creating an enormous plume of water like a geyser. We did lose a key, found it again, and lost it again. Life as metaphor.

And the sea, always the sea...


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