There are places that we connect to in ways that are hard to explain. Something speaks to us. Deeply. We feel at home or most like ourselves when we’re there.

Poem by Molly from Transatlantic Notes called ’Waves’: “I dream of tidal waters floating between mist and memory where coastal salt lingers cleansing, soothing, reclaiming me. I feel the pull of the ocean from safe harbour to open sea gazing across the horizon teaching, guiding, setting free.”

My place is the Cornish coast. I miss living by the sea and listening to the waves. Part of me misses who I was as I’d stand and hear the whispers of the swell and spray.

Where’s your place?

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