Light up
I've always had an affinity with England. I love the history and
adore the accent so much that when I finished my degree, I knew I
had to go there.
I applied for a working visa and soon found myself living in
staff accommodation at a tiny pub in a beautiful little village in
Suffolk. It was the type of place I'd dreamt about: one street in
and out, thatched roofs, friendly locals. I could even hear the sea
from my bed.
It was easy to make friends because the village was so small.
And soon we started doing everything together, including nightly
swims in the sea.
My last day working and living at the pub was magical. After a
lovely dinner, all the friends I'd made - this chosen family -
walked down to the beach one last time. It was very dark: hardly
any moon or stars.
We decided to go swimming. We were splashing around, shouting
and laughing. It was like a rowdy carnival atmosphere. Then we all
looked down and noticed that the sea was glowing. There was
phosphorescent plankton everywhere. I'd heard it sometimes happened
in that part of the North Sea but in the two years I'd been
swimming there I'd never seen it.
All of us became silent, awed by the magic before us. I started
to cry because it was something I'd wanted to see but had given up
on.
Seeing the water on our bodies just glowing with life was
overwhelming. And to witness it on my last night in England was
incredible. It was like the place I loved so dearly had come to
life to say goodbye to me.
-
-
