Today, I really miss England.
To be fair, I miss it most days, but today I’ve been thinking about our time in Tintagel. The morning after our arrival was cool and foggy (shocking for England, right?), the perfect weather for traipsing through fields to Tintagel Parish Church.
The rising sun burned off the fog as we walked, but the mist clung stubbornly to the church and grounds. We were the only ones around, and can still remember how quiet everything was. Walking up to the the shrouded church was beautiful and eerie, like the veil between worlds had been lifted.
If only every day could be as magical.