Monday, January 17, 2011

i must go down to the sea

Friends have recently settled into their new home.
The other night we sat with our feet under their table in a new yet familiar space.
Often, as years accumulate, so does the assortment of furniture in a home, and they had edited their collection in honour of the move. A small blue green cupboard now stood like sculpture in the living room. A side chair, its curved wooden arms burnished and glowing, rested gracefully before the fire.
It was the painting above the fireplace that made me gasp though. They had found it in Oregon and loved it because it reminded them of sand dunes along the North Sea. The crash of the surf and relentless wind, the silky cool sand and coarse waving grass of the dunes were there like a window, ever changing, ever inviting.
"I must go down to the sea," I quoted to myself like a prayer.
I can breathe there, find comfort there, and peace.
This is what I wish for them in their new home.

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