I just went to Paradise — and then came home to me.

Equilibre. Powys

I went away.

I went up to the imposing mountains with their fresh breezes and varigated strata; their cascades and cool moss carpets, edging light dappled verticles, dripping with resin.

I went away with strong women.

We sang, danced, hugged and ate together and at dusk, drank health in green Chartreuse before gathering around the fire — eventually shedding clothes and stomping, bare-breasted, primal, before the flames…

Before, we bare-foot balanced — trod lightly — loads off-loading

Stretching with the trees

Breathing low and slow in pose of a child at insect level with the earth smells

Inhaling as one.

I came home to the sea.

Exhaled.

I let out the cool honey, old stone and rose sunset on the majestic peaks.

My lungs emptied me of leaf green babbling water, babbling laughter, chatting companionship — soft women supporting each other sparkling in the gorgeous verdure.

I exhaled until I had to inhale again -

I noticed the bobbing Cormorant in front of me in the silk waves — and realised that I had left one Paradise for another — and that — yes — it is.

Time to resume my normal breath…