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Driving home tonight, in the blue hour of dusk.
Wending my way through the Glen o' the Downs, the Sugarloaf mountain looming out of the mist.
And the trees, in their new fullness of green, climbing up into the dipping clouds each side of me.
And then, the big new road, now softened by the mist, with it's big new lights that stretch up into the blueness and look! in the soft, diffused mizzle of misty rain, they are giant storybook flowers with drooping halo's of light around them.
Then down into the tunnel of green, explosions of frothy Elderflowers crammed amongst the green, and there, opening out before me, the cool grey sea, and the mist scatters and drifts. And now, on the lane, now I see glowing windows and there, tucked amongst the verdant, wet summer growth, a little house.
And here I pause for a moment, to savour the quiet, as the music comes to an end. Then I step out into the dimming air and I breathe.
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I breathe.
Home.