Port Gaverne Beach

We held hands, the three of us, tight, and made our way on to the weather beaten beach, tide eventually retreating and making its way back out to the monsters of the deep. Those little hands of our tiny girl, now wrapped so firmly in the grips of her adoring parents, as she walks with the assurance of a lady who knows she is loved deeply.

'It's hard to think,' I say, looking out to the ocean as we stand at the edge of the sea, 'that three years ago she wasn't even in our thoughts!'

'I know,' replies my love, her mind flowing back and then moving fast forward to now, this time, this place.

'Do you think we will always come back,' she asks, her daughter now kicking at the sea with her red Wellington boots that were made to go on such feet as hers.

'Here?' I ask, my eyes now focussed on hers, our search for love, for place, for peace and beyond, all in that one gaze, that one question. She nods.

'Of course baby, we will always come here,' I reply happily, lifting my little girl up in my arms and pulling her into a group hug that fills us up with more warmth, more truth than you could have thought was even possible.

Port Gaverne beach

1st April 2013

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