We sat up here for a while and, when the beach was empty, we dropped down to play on the sand.
As I walked along the beach listening to a podcast I heard this quote from Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Breathes There The Man’.
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
We were in no hurry so we stood and watched the sea,
listened to the waves,
felt the wind on our faces
and made plans for tomorrow...
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