14 years and I still remember the smell of this church. Prestbury, my village, looks enchanting in the morning light. 10 o'clock. The church bells ring. Quarter past. Bells. Half Past. Bells. I remember in Israel loving the bells in the Old City because they reminded me of here. This church. This village. "That's the best sound in the world", I would say.
I love the East Coast. It's gorgeous. Yet it wasn't until yesterday that I realized that the reason I love it out East is because it reminds me of Cheshire. Fields. Sheep. Trees. Green. It's all here. What had been a blank canvas of memory is now filled with what I have always loved. Funny how that works.
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