As the magician conjures up a ring Behind his silken, snow white handkerchief; Rising, the golden sun unveils the Spring And vanishes the snow it hid beneath. Caterpillars turn into butterflies

The beginning of one relationship, and the end of another.

Although I never said exactly what I was thinking, and although I realise that twenty-three years is a long time to have waited and the moment may not be as fresh

The grass beyond the window pane seems oh so far away, My dreams beyond these endless days seem paler day by day. The lands across the oceans deep are like a dream to me,

The found couple sat on the bench, holding hands. A July summer, English seafront.

NYC – Roanoke: 526 miles

I'd never been hunting before.