There is a self-contained serenity about the houses, driveways, sidewalks and streets. School has just released, children bundle home on this mist filled day in autumn. The door flies open, voices live and raucous fill every crack, bring this mundane afternoon to life. As you close your book, put down your pen, there is the familiar rush, the pull of opposing forces – what you are and what you would be otherwise. A smell inhabits the room, takes you to a place where depth can be measured, but it is the buoyancy of the salt that is best and most often felt. And yes, this is what lifts you as you bend to sweep leaves, boot prints, water, taking in the aroma of the life you have chosen.