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Sometimes I am just blessed with an illustration of how lucky I am.

We were up on a path between Paul and Lamorna, over looking the sea.

The sky was clear blue with a faint haze on the horizon.

The sea was a wash of glistering splinters of white light on blue.

The sun was beaming down but a light breeze coming up off the sea cooled us.

The boys and I were amongst friends and we were talking about boats and food, places we had visited and things we wanted to do.

Prole1 was off somewhere in the group discussing the difference between Elvish and Hobbit psychology with the Wordwitch.

I was just ahead of Prole2 who was wearing a thick wooley cardigan and a cowboy hat.

We came up over a rise and Prole2 held my hand.

We could see all the way from St Michael’s Mount round to the tip of the Lizard, just there in the haze.

There were boats in the bay and the sky was empty and huge.

Me: Look at that. Isn’t it beautiful.

Prole2: What?

Me: Look at the view.

Prole2: What?

Me: The view, I am saying it is beautiful.

Prole2 stopped and adjusted the doc leaf he had wrapped around his hand.
Nettle sting.
Nettle.
The Prole’s deadly enemy.
Prole1 had an identical battle wound with a matching doc leaf field dressing.

Prole2 clambered up onto a rock and peered out across the bay.

Prole2: What?

Me: The View. It’s beautiful.

Prole2: What’s a view?

Me: Everything you can see. That’s the view.

Prole2: The sea?

Me: No, I mean everything you can see.

Prole2: I can see the sea.

Me: Yes. The sea is part of the view, the view is everything you can see. I just thought it looked nice.

Prole2 went quiet and stared hard out into the distance.

He looked at me.

Prole2: What?

I had been here before.

Me: Do you think it is a nice day?

Prole2: Yes.

Me: Good.

I gave him some cucumber and he skipped off munching.

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