As the days grow longer, I’ve been finding myself drawn back to the simple things evening walks, watching the sunset spill across the beach, picking up the little treasures nature leaves behind. Later, they’ll find their way into my practice, holding the memory of these moments inside them. On this particular spring day, the sun was enormous golden, orange, almost unreal. I knew I wouldn’t forget it. The air turned chilly as I climbed the steep hill toward a warm dinner, a friend beside me, our conversation drifting as easily as the tide. Breathing in the salty air felt like returning to something ancient and familiar. I grew up by the coast, and my favourite part of childhood was having the sea right there the goddess in her purest form, cleansing, refreshing, a place to reflect. Now that I live by the coast again, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even though the ocean is never the same twice, the feeling it gives me is constant. It still feels like home.