My favourite place.

The car door slams shut. My hands touch the metal gate, lifting it slightly, pushing my way in. The waves are crashing against the rocks, demanding to be heard. Their violent froth threatens to hit me as I stop breathing and take in the mesmeric display before me. Icy droplets dance and play and perform. I feel so grateful my chest opens and I am at one with the ocean. I feel it’s bravery, it’s might, it’s gentleness. I breath it in. It breathes me.

I hear the shells and rocks crunching beneath my feet. The seagulls caw. The waves crash. It’s a symphony of sounds which are so conflicting that it should be overwhelming. And yet. It is soothing. It sounds like home. It sounds like a familiar song that takes me to a special place. It feels safe. It feels welcoming. It seems to not care who I think I am. I am here, now with it and that is all that matters.

I reach the grassy field marked by a lopsided tree which has been tainted by the strong gusts. It is so out of place and yet it belongs. My shoes slip off and I feel the grass tickle my skin. It makes my stomach jitter. I don’t care who I am or what I’m thinking. I am here. Now. I am running through grass up to my shins, my toes squelching in the damp soil. I feel the racing of my heart. I am alive. The cliffs steal my breath from my grasp. I no longer own it. It owns me. I see mountains. Waves. A hundred shades of green smeared upon a hundred shades of blue.

I feel like screaming ‘THANK YOU’ from the top of my lungs. So I do. And I don’t even look behind me to make sure there is no one there. I just scream and laugh and leap. And let go. I am home. I can always come home to this place. Where a million memories live. Where my heart dances. And even though I know it inch by inch. It is never the same. It is always new. It always hears me. It always sees me. It always teaches me a different lesson.

Thank you Reen, for being the most amazing place I know.