There are still more days to travel in this life. And he knows that the man who makes the journey has been shaped by every day and every person along the way. Scars are just another kind of memory. Isabel is part of him, wherever she is, just like the war and the light and the ocean. Soon enough the days will close over their lives, the grass will grow over their graves, until their story is just an unvisited headstone. – The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman

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idolwanderer

Where travel and poetry intertwine.

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Tales of whimsy, humor and courgettes

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