In the last few days we’ve left our urban seaside town and followed the English coast south, through forests and fields, past ancient Stonehenge where our ancestors brought their babies to greet the rising sun. Through valleys and over rolling hills, till hedgerows rose on either side of us blocking towns from sight. We drove a well trodden route until we glimpsed a church spire, the sea glinting on the horizon and a red-earthen lane takes us past cattle and sheep to a stone house on a hill.
When your Papa and I get out of the car the air is sweet with cut hay and sea spray flying on the wind. Above us the local pair of Buzzards call to each other as if announcing our arrival on the hilltop and into the valley below. My heart rises to meet them. I am home. This is Devon. This is family. This is where I worked out so much of what life is. There is no where on earth I love quite so dearly or where the very soil seems to heal me so much. I hope you will love it too.
Returning here from the hustle of our town life, seeing people I’ve known all my life makes me nostalgic for my Devon childhood and I wonder what yours will be like. If it will be spent here like mine or elsewhere?
Sandcastles, surf, sailing, muddy wellies, tea, slow buses, tractors, tents, toffee, crabs, seagulls, boats, wetsuits, life-jackets, tide pools, shrimps and mermaid tales. First jobs, first club, first friends, first broken hearts, first drunken nights and skinny dipping, first locked-in-up-all-night-sunrise-viewing, first love.
I wonder where all your firsts will be?
I hope that wherever your firsts take place. That they, like mine are full of more joy than sadness. That you have a sense of belonging and home. That when you look back and it’s your turn to have a babe you’ll be grateful for the hard times as well as the good and you’ll know wherever you are; You are loved and wanted. Always.
Keep growing bub
You are loved