I screeched as loud as my lungs have capacity for air! With deep joy I can smell the ocean, I know it is just beyond this brae. The pain of my harrowed feet lifts and I start to run towards the edge of my world. I lift my arms above me, fingers open, air travelling briskly between them. My shawl falls from my shoulders – I can not care! Surely I taste the salty air around my lips. Battering me with its beauty, there it is – mighty watery landscape, half light upon it. On a distant rock a lighthouse calls me forth. Rolling meadow grass left behind, I’m met with a terrain of boulders, strewn across where land meets sea. Aware of this thin boney body, that has now become mine and the burning of my mule feet. I tumble, clatter and falter, relieved when I reach the sand. I fall at the small waves and with haste and with delicacy, I remove what’s left of my shoes. Shocked by the sight, I move forward to let the water splash over my feet, cleansing them with sharp relief. My body drops into exhaustion, ready to allow stillness to come over me. With low mist snaking in and purple skies darkening, the light offered to keep sea travellers safe is my comfort as I wait.