I can't remember how long it's been since I've been to a beach.
The sun on my face.
The sand between my toes.
The sea breeze.
My dog is just as struck by the beauty of the Adelaide beach on which we sit. I've let him off the lead and he's galloped across the sand, his floppy ears flailing like sails. He's snapped at the air like it's some sort of treat.
On the beach, I can stretch my legs. I can stride a little bit, even though the pins and needles keep reminding me that they're there. I can accept the pain because where I am feels so bloody good!
There's a young Dad frollicking with his infant son near the edge of the foam as it races up the sand. The boy squeals with joy and it's hard not to smile. Right now - I get it kid.
To sit on the sand with a straight back (because I *have* to keep a straight back) and look out over the jetty. To marvel at just how wide open everything is. The sun and the light! The air! The breeze on my face!
I've been surrounded by the four walls of my house for far too long.
I almost don't care that I move like an 80 year old. That I probably should have taken some pain relief with me. That there's not a toilet close by.
I can see a kiosk nearby.
You know what? I'm gonna treat myself. Yes I am.