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Sitting on a shingle beach, by Britta Benson

You’d think I’d written enough poems about sitting on a shingle beach by now. Apparently, I haven’t. I can’t really explain why, but the black shingle beaches on the Isle of Skye have done things to my soul I will be eternally grateful for. By the way, there are lovely white sandy beaches on SkyeContinue reading “Sitting on a shingle beach, by Britta Benson”

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