For the past six weeks, having lost my headphones to the ocean, I’ve listened very little to my own playlists. Instead, I’ve let conversations on public transport inspire my writing, fallen asleep to the snores of shared dorms, road tripped to others CD’s playing through open windows and mostly, thrown myself into new surroundings without the familiar soundtrack of my own music taste.

Today the light brought the year’s first hint of Spring. My head and my heart are somewhere between the oceans and the trees. Photo credit: unknown [via http://tribalprintedbeauties.tumblr.com/]

Today the light brought the year’s first hint of Spring. My head and my heart are somewhere between the oceans and the trees.

Photo credit: unknown [via http://tribalprintedbeauties.tumblr.com/]

Out of the tube on a Saturday evening and on to the road leading to Portobello market, where a man sat on his coat on the November-cold floor asking for spare change. Pockets empty, I slowed my pace, smiled at him and apologised for not sharing my silver. He glanced up and held my eyes, bemusement furrowing his brows.

'Don't worry darlin'.. it's just nice to be recognised. Thank you.'

like waves, crashing onto the rocks about the shore before a storm.

Two years ago, my soul-sister-bestfriend was beginning her treatment having been diagnosed with cancer the month before. One year ago, my father died from a long battle with his second cancer. Today, my beautiful gyspy-cat, a stray who walked to my door with me one Summer morning a few years ago and made my family her home, was diagnosed with cancer. November, throw at me what you may, but we’ll fight with a smile until the end.

"There is not love of life without despair about life."

Albert Camus

Three people, complete strangers, smiled at me and said hello whilst crossing the cobbled road from one door to another.

I looked around the table and, one after the other, pairs of eyes met mine, dark circles underneath with a question of, ‘what if’.

He pointed to her walking stick whilst passing along a leaf littered road, and quietly with an African twang, shouted about the potholes in the ground with fear for falling into hidden eaten earth.

The paths are coloured and underfoot, fallen leaves slide between my sole and the road.

Hello Autumn with your overcast skies.

Orange leaves scattered the pavements, litter colouring them all kinds of plastic. Children in brand new uniforms with bags matching ties made their way to their first day of term, and a man I passed just before the bus stopped asked me about my morning and told me, “Autumn’s creepin’ in.”

Walking home, a man with a kiwi twang twenty or so paces ahead turned around, asked if I was following him and continued with hello.

Evenings spent under City stars and afternoon escapes to the ocean.

It’s especially bright for a Friday night; It could be morning.