Morning mists

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Six a.m. on a Sunday morning; woken by the rain on the window, I have been awake for over  an hour. The hotel is a field away from the sea and, for the past two nights, we have seen the lights of the boats dancing on the waves. This morning the sea is unseen, veiled by the mists and rain and the silence of invisibility.

We have still half a day left of the Whispers in the West weekend and it has been a wonderful few days so far, seeing this little corner of Pembrokeshire through the eyes of one of our Companions who loves it dearly.

There will be much to tell and share when I am home and reconnected to the internet next week. For now, though, I try and clear the inner mists of sleep and ready myself for the shared morning and the long journey home.

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