To say that Herself's first day at college did not go well is to put it mildly. She got home tired and dispirited and feeling she'd made a serious mistake – it was a very sad sight.
In London, she'd have disappeared into her office for an hour, and I'd have poured her a drink and we'd have sat round the kitchen table discussing it all. Yesterday, I turned off the heat under my sloe jam and we went straight down the lane to the sea.
We walked along the beach at low tide, looking at the waves and the sky and the dogs running in and out of the surf. We had the same conversation we'd have had in London, but the beauty of our surroundings, and the perspective the sea and sky always put things in, helped to ease her furrowed brow in a way no amount of kitchen table psychology ever could.
I hope that we're still sending our troubles out to sea in a year's time, when it comes time to leave. It will mean that we've held on to our love of Suffolk's bleak beauty and can still feel its power. For now, though, it continues to bring solace to those in need of comfort, and sloes to those in need of jam.
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