Sunday, 12 February 2012
We went. We walked. We romped, skipped, shuffled, danced, climbed and hurried. We slowed and meandered. We went to the best gig. We clambered through mountain towns. We rested on old dashboards with the road stretched before us. We tapped impatiently under tables and chairs as we couldn't wait to see more.
My new vans and I have the best stories. Ones of getting lost in time, discovering newness as the sun enveloped us. We got dirty, and we love the marks that dirt and memories leave.
This is the stuff great love stories are made of.