There is a word for it in Welsh; Hiraeth.
It means ‘a longing for home’. I don’t miss my old cottage in Bollington so much anymore, times move on. That is until I return there. There is magic in that valley. Martin and Rachel have had baby Guy since I left. He is nine months old now, going on thirteen.
Hiraeth – the link with past, the language from the soul, the call from the inner self. Half forgotten – fraction remembered. It speaks from the stone, from the earth, from the trees and in the people. It’s always there.
