I love the feeling I get when I meet up with friends I haven't seen for ages; it's like putting on an old familiar jumper, slipping your feet into a favourite pair of slippers worn into the shape of your foot or sitting by a cosy fire, curled up with a good book.
The past week I've had several such get-togethers; it's the season when they swoop back to visit the old land, tanned, fresh-faced and full of news from their lives elsewhere - lives we once shared. We 'catch-up', relocate and 'pick-up' again. Just for a moment, a day, it feels as though we have never separated; we remember and enjoy the feeling of being all together again. 'Just like old times,' we say, only it isn't really and can never be the same again.
When they leave, the warmth of their presence remains with me for a while and I feel grounded again, as if their visit has rekindled some part of me I had temporarily lost and reminded me of who I really am.