By the Sea

I know I live by the sea because of the seagulls.

They float around in the sky, swooping up and down past the clouds.

I see them outside my balcony window.

I know I live by the sea because I can hear them. Groaning and moaning. Screeching. Wooo-ahhhing at each other.

The screaming children I see being dragged about from shop to shop must have learned how to squawk from these seagulls because it's hard to tell the difference.

So many times, I stop, mid-sentence, mid-walk-in-the-bedroom, mid-making-tea, thinking someone is torturing a child outside.

I hear them when I'm in that slumbery place right before dawn breaks.

And I start to dream about fighting people, screaming children, angry angry birds.

In Leeds, the traffic outside my bedroom window sounded like the ocean. Sometimes I would imagine that if I lifted the cutains, there would be this magical landscape of rock face, foliage, sand and sea. The beaming sun would peek out from the clouds in an almost blue sky.

I have always wanted to live by the ocean.

But I never thought I would enjoy the "fake" seaside sounds of the traffic over the "very real" seaside squawks of the seagulls.

******

Very creative, reflective weekend.

I was pleasantly surprised at my enjoyment of a task I was never expecting to enjoy.

I'm not holding my hopes up for anything.

And for once, I will simply let fate deal with this one.

I've worked as hard as I can and there's no more I can do on this project.

So of to you, Destiny.