When I look by the seaside, my seaside or any other, I look out to the horizon and imagine the earth falling away over the edge. I have done this in Senegal, Greece, Mexico, Canada, and California. The effect is the same, but when I am away from home, I imagine my fingers skipping over the water to the place have come to belong. Being away from home is already on the same plane, though I am filled with excitement about being in this new place, seeing what I am accustomed to and things I am not accustomed to like feral cats that nobody ever feeds, vendors who press their watches to your face, and women who seek to impress you with the fact that they are second wives.
I keep meaning to write about Senegal. I have let you down on this. As time passes, I will make good on this.