On Monday, I heard the cows in the barn yearning for their breakfast, it was like listening to the usual seagulls begging for Cornish Pasties. 

On Tuesday, I went for a walk in the forest, my feet squelching in the soft mud, as the trees happily waved at me, it was as if I were their friend.

On Wednesday, I smelt the salty, sandy sea blowing around in the sunny sky as it sang its morning routine.

On Thursday, my feet touched the soft sand, the rocks were moving around, making room for me.

On Friday, I did the cross country run, my feet filled with more wetness every step I took. It was as if it was raining, but it wasn’t.

On Saturday, I hoped I would get a pasty for tea as I smelt the meaty smell wafting through the house.

On Sunday, I felt the cold breeze smacking against my face.