Mussel-Shells
I grew up by the salt water - it lived on my skin and in my hair. But recently we moved to the fresh water, to rivers and paperbark tress and I still miss the salt. I miss being clammy at the end of the day and having grit and sand under my fingernails and there are lots of days when I long for the waves and to see crocodiles bobbing up and down in the rhythm of the open sea. But for now I'll take heart that in the words of Paulo Coelho. “I understand that everything is connected, that all roads meet, and that all rivers flow into the same sea.”
I grew up by the salt water - it lived on my skin and in my hair. But recently we moved to the fresh water, to rivers and paperbark tress and I still miss the salt. I miss being clammy at the end of the day and having grit and sand under my fingernails and there are lots of days when I long for the waves and to see crocodiles bobbing up and down in the rhythm of the open sea. But for now I'll take heart that in the words of Paulo Coelho. “I understand that everything is connected, that all roads meet, and that all rivers flow into the same sea.”
I grew up by the salt water - it lived on my skin and in my hair. But recently we moved to the fresh water, to rivers and paperbark tress and I still miss the salt. I miss being clammy at the end of the day and having grit and sand under my fingernails and there are lots of days when I long for the waves and to see crocodiles bobbing up and down in the rhythm of the open sea. But for now I'll take heart that in the words of Paulo Coelho. “I understand that everything is connected, that all roads meet, and that all rivers flow into the same sea.”