This was copied form my blog:
I was happiest when I was walking along a beach on the Mull of Kintyre, beach combing for odd bits and pieces, sea glass and such, as the sun slowly sets behind Arran. I was wrapped up warm with gloves and scarf but the icy chill from the sea breeze prickled on my cheeks and randomly would find any gap in my clohing. After the sun had set and pockets full of scavenged treats I would settle down in front of a fire with a cup of coffee. The heat of the fire was almost too much to bear and felt like hot hand pushing me toward sleep. My drowsiness broken by random whistles and howls of wind and the apoplectic snap and pop from the fire. They where the best holidays with mum and dad.




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