The farm. In the middle of nowhere. His childhood home.
I like being there with him. I like to see the peace in his eyes as soon as we open the car door to the lonely roads, the huge trees and the old house.
It is the only place I know where it is totally quiet. No car noise, no horns, nothing.
I stood in the middle of this road on the most glorious evening. All we could hear was the tree creaking in the wind.
There isn't much internet and there isn't any phone signal.
I like to retreat back to this place and focus on us. On long walks through the fields of wheat and barley. On muddy welly walks in the winter and the long shadow evenings of the summer.
Last time I visited we took a walk through the local village. It was a collection of picture postcard cottages. All thatched roofs and roses around the door. Bottled milk left on the doorstep.
I am enjoying going out to the farm and exploring a place he has known forever.
I think it is becoming one of my favourites too.
Where is your favourite place?