Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Washed up on unknown shores
This is where I'm from. Land of the Big Trees.
This is Third Beach in Stanley Park. There was a time, which seems like a dream now, when I could be reliably found here in the afternoons after getting off work in a bakery; the best part of starting work at 3 am is getting off in time to go to the beach every afternoon and go to the movies with my friends in the middle of the day for cheap. The directions to Hilary at 3rd Beach are, "Middle staircase, centre row, second log to the right".
What do I want? Not just to go back to the place, but to go back to the time when I didn't know what I know now. If I'd known ahead of time what I was going to know in ten years, I would have given it a pass and not known it. Maybe the world was coming to an end, but at least I would have been spared knowing it was coming.
Oh, that's a song.
"Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then. "
A country song.
H/T Vicky's pic.
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2 comments:
"You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. "
AJM
You made me cry, Hilary.
And then you did, AJM.
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