Tucked away perched on the top of the soft golden sand dunes, sits a unique shack sculpted out of driftwood and twigs. Each piece sun-bleached and weathered by the sand and ocean currents, each with its own story to tell.
Loosely held together with ‘bric a brac’ and rambling vines running through the grooves, like swirls of lace, tracing the texture of the gnarly knotted grains, emerging over the shoulders and elbows of the driftwood so carefully placed.
The sun shines through the arch, catching my eye... in that moment I am there again, I hear the sea and the soft percussion lullaby of the waves caressing and soothing my soul; the silky sand slipping smoothly between my toes and the salty air seducing my nostrils as my untamed hair is whipped up into a tangle.
I am back to that place that invites a lazy afternoon slumber, I sink down next to the tumbleweed that has found refuge from a disruptive life and allow time to move both fast and slow..