I grew up by the sea, on the north-west coast of Scotland. Shieldaig Bay was somewhat sheltered from the Atlantic Ocean, being about 24 miles short of the Minch facing the Outer Hebrides and, from there, the ocean passage to Canada. I remember the gale force winds in winter, the sounds of rain on our slate roof, the discoveries on the beaches at low tide: tidal pools, driftwood, and the sometimes appearance of Portuguese Men o' War. The sea is in my blood even though these days, my 'sea' is the Great Lakes in Ontario.
This piece of poetry is an extract from a much longer work that is still in progress but these few lines stand on their own while the longer work continues to steep.