Waves breaking on the little shore.

Now, this thing with towns. Some (many) may think I'm a total neurotic about this when I nag and complain about St Aldus being a dried up sad place but it's true. My entire life has been spent near water, whether it's a lake, a sea or a park built around a dam with adjoining river. I had no idea, or at least I hadn't reflected on it much, when I moved here that St Aldus does in fact not contain any water. At all. There's a duck pond, that's it. When they removed the fence around the duck pond a few years ago there was a roar in the community about how they should put it back because CHILDREN COULD FALL INTO IT! That's how strange to water St Aldusers are.

For me, there's nothing more relaxing and soothing for a troubled mind as just sitting down on a bench or rock by the water and just listen to the sound of the waves hitting the shore. Do I need to point out that I am quite a troubled mind? I NEED it, it fulfills something in me that I cannot explain to anyone else. It's just as it is. I need it.

In addition, I love surrounding myself with older types of environments. Old houses, historic environments, somewhere where I can feel the years passing and get a sense of what has been. It's also something rooted deep within me. I hadn't reflected upon that much either before I moved to the island (altough I always took the route through the medieval remnants in my hometown when I got the chance) and suddenly got to sit by the sea, listening to the waves with a 800 year old church ruin right behind me. I took nightly walks through the cobble stone alleys, just feeling like I belong there. I mean, they say once you go black, you never go back. This is like that, but in a much less rimey kind of expression. Once you go seaside, historic/ancient environments with all spectrums of history involved from the stone age to present day, you never go back?

I've spent a year in St Aldus and it's wearing on me. I love the region, it's fabulous. Graves, ancient monuments, pretty environments everywhere you look. Except for the void called St Aldus. No water. No sunset. No museum. No historical environments. There's one house predating the 1850's. No theater. It's just a town. A post-railway town.

When we visited Oak Grove for the first time, I felt about the same as with the island town. A little excited, a little.. homey. It felt right. We walked up the old town's cobbled streets, shadowed by the church and overlooking the lake. It feels like I belong there. I don't want the visits to end. I don't feel like I belong here. Something's missing. And that's why I'm so into this whole idea of moving. Maybe (likely) it'll fulfill what I'm missing. And right now, with the presence of a move there, it feels really good.