“Do you think the sun gets lonely up there?” Cam asks pensively. I can see the vermillion of the sunset clouds reflected in the honey glaze of his deep, brown eyes.

“Maybe, from time to time,” I respond after taking a moment to think. I snuggle in deeper into his chest. “But it has so much to see.”

“Like two twenty somethings frolicking on a beach?”

“Like two twenty somethings frolicking on a beach,” I laugh.

We’ve drank our bottle of red, an excellent recommendation from him and have wrapped up in our layers to enjoy the sunset on Leighton Beach.

“It’s not the best sunset, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly! You don’t control the sunset!” I say, feeling the tingle of the alcohol in my bloodstream and the cooling sand between my toes. It’s maybe not the warmest night in Western Australia, but it’s far from underwhelming.

The heavens up above are giving us a spectacular display of passionate clouds streaked with red from a bleeding moon. The massive ships on the water stare at us from miles away.

“I certainly don’t feel lonely here, all this way from home,” I murmur and he pulls me in close.

Sometimes, home can feel like a person, or just having sand beneath your feet and the sky above you.