Late at night I ponder what it would be like to be on the road. Touring the countryside with a backpack and a camera. My who life spontaneous moving from one moment to the next with a shift of the breeze. I remember the heat of the fire as the embers died, the shiver up my spine as it bowed under a gentle caress. I smell the salt from the ocean and still bask in the ghosts of raindrops that sizzle off my sunburnt skin. Passionate nights, dramatic days. All left to the wings of chance and s pocket full of dreams. I lose myself in these moments, letting my soul flourish in the fanciful future of an unwritten tale. A noise soft a sweet hits my ears and I’m pulled back to the present. Soft snuffling sounds of the angels I helped love into this world. I pull them closer into my arms, our hearts carrying the same soft beat and put those stories away for another day. One where I take pen to paper an write of my adventures if past and the journey that led me to exactly where I am happy to be right now.