Home Actress Louise Brealey HD Instagram Photos and Wallpapers November 2022 Louise Brealey Instagram - We drove west along the north coast of Scotland into the dazzle of a sunset and made it to the beach just before the sun slipped down behind a band of cloud. There was a smushed marigold on the tide line. I walked the quarter mile to our bit of the beach, where a scree of giant pebbles meet the sand. On my phone is a picture of mum sat here with a towel on her head. I put the marigold on the rocks. The Mexicans call it the flower of the dead and use its bright colours to guide the spirits of their lost ones to their shrines on the Dio de los Muertos. I ran my fingers through the fine white sand and let the sea and the sky do their thing.

Louise Brealey Instagram – We drove west along the north coast of Scotland into the dazzle of a sunset and made it to the beach just before the sun slipped down behind a band of cloud. There was a smushed marigold on the tide line. I walked the quarter mile to our bit of the beach, where a scree of giant pebbles meet the sand. On my phone is a picture of mum sat here with a towel on her head. I put the marigold on the rocks. The Mexicans call it the flower of the dead and use its bright colours to guide the spirits of their lost ones to their shrines on the Dio de los Muertos. I ran my fingers through the fine white sand and let the sea and the sky do their thing.

Louise Brealey Instagram - We drove west along the north coast of Scotland into the dazzle of a sunset and made it to the beach just before the sun slipped down behind a band of cloud. There was a smushed marigold on the tide line. I walked the quarter mile to our bit of the beach, where a scree of giant pebbles meet the sand. On my phone is a picture of mum sat here with a towel on her head. I put the marigold on the rocks. The Mexicans call it the flower of the dead and use its bright colours to guide the spirits of their lost ones to their shrines on the Dio de los Muertos. I ran my fingers through the fine white sand and let the sea and the sky do their thing.

Louise Brealey Instagram – We drove west along the north coast of Scotland into the dazzle of a sunset and made it to the beach just before the sun slipped down behind a band of cloud.

There was a smushed marigold on the tide line. I walked the quarter mile to our bit of the beach, where a scree of giant pebbles meet the sand. On my phone is a picture of mum sat here with a towel on her head.

I put the marigold on the rocks. The Mexicans call it the flower of the dead and use its bright colours to guide the spirits of their lost ones to their shrines on the Dio de los Muertos.

I ran my fingers through the fine white sand and let the sea and the sky do their thing. | Posted on 15/Nov/2022 00:41:44

Louise Brealey Instagram – We drove west along the north coast of Scotland into the dazzle of a sunset and made it to the beach just before the sun slipped down behind a band of cloud. 

There was a smushed marigold on the tide line. I walked the quarter mile to our bit of the beach, where a scree of giant pebbles meet the sand. On my phone is a picture of mum sat here with a towel on her head. 

I put the marigold on the rocks. The Mexicans call it the flower of the dead and use its bright colours to guide the spirits of their lost ones to their shrines on the Dio de los Muertos. 

I ran my fingers through the fine white sand and let the sea and the sky do their thing.
Louise Brealey Instagram – I’m showing you the highlights. But I’m not on this long and winding road to mend anything. I’m on it to take time. 

Time to remember, to sit with how frightening things got; time to get distracted by a field of sheep backlit by a tangerine moon. To stand still on cold beaches in a warm coat with a young dog who is trying his best, and watch the sea. Time to let go of the grip I want to hold on everyone I love. To let the stress leave my body, to sleep under two duvets with the rain falling on the cold tin roof (or tonight, with the wind flapping curtains on closed windows). 

I need to try to live in the loss a bit, instead of running away from it so fast I can’t get my breath. 

So anyway, sure, I’ll share some of the highlights. 

Crab sandwich in a tiny pub on the beach. Rob bringing tea and toast & marmalade in the neon dawn in a wet orchard. Dorothy next door bringing me a Tunnocks Tea Cake with my cuppa, at half eight in the morning. Miles of farm lanes with skeleton trees. Making camp on a headland with the lights of ships in my windscreen. Chicken curry in a Moomin pan. A rhombus of dark chocolate for afters. Gilbert pressed against my legs under the blanket. Life is beautiful. I miss you, mum. Eyemouth

Check out the latest gallery of Louise Brealey