Sun Day

I attempt to get a calmer outlook on life by putting on my new yoga DVD.  A few downward dogs and cobras later, I attempt a wobbly tree pose and feel ready to say “Hi” to the Sun. I am feeling rejuvenated and ready to start my day – ok it is 2pm and my day actually started quite a few hours earlier but I had to get other things out of the way first like the washing and shopping and getting my roots done didn’t I? Oh and did I mention that I am on a fast day and need to keep my mind off what’s in the fridge?

I get a call from a friend and go for a walk along the beach.  I don’t know if it’s the lack of food but I see yoga poses in the sky…

hallucinating

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside

Wind tears at our thin coverings and hurries us farther down the shore.  Too far along we turn and attempt to retrace our steps with haste.

The spray coats our arms and suddenly it starts to rain; icy darts stab at us – now the wind carries rain, seawater and sand in its grasp.  We stagger back – both of us just in t-short and shorts; our feet sinking down into the damp, and surprisingly uncomfortable dunes, hindering our progress and delaying our return to the car park and relative warmth of the car.

We arrive back at the house; both of us looking like sodden, bedraggled wrecks. Gratefully, we head for hot showers and dry clothes.

Blood sports

Trundling down the pier at ten miles an hour (you get clocked and booked if you go any faster) I have ample time to look left and right. The tide is at its lowest, exposing a feast for both the gulls and the fishermen preparing for this evening’s marathon.
When I was young and eager I would carry the bait bucket around Player’s beach – a caddy for a contest which swapped club for rod.
Time moves on, the tides are ever-shifting in this game of life that we play out on the sands of here and now.

The place to be

A stroll on the beach is accompanied incongruously by pounding europop and the gentle swishing sounds of the sea. Funny how the different sounds take precedence depending on the way you are facing. We leave behind the visiting funfair and walk into the rapidly cooling evening air. The beach is populated with small groups of evening fishermen and families taking their dogs for a last walk like us. Luckily Rosy doesn’t spot the tempting mackerel which sits, trophy-like, beside the first angler that we pass. We laugh and agree that it wouldn’t have been around to admire for very long – hungry spaniels are not fussy what food they snaffle!
We come back to a supper of cheese and biscuits and some bottles of beer; I feel relaxed and happy yet also a bit sad that my visitors leave tomorrow. I will miss them.

The Old Man and the Sea

DSCF4043

The old man and the sea.
Looking for coastal gifts –
stones to craft and share.
Amazing what treasures
this oft deserted shore
can yield to those who see.
As one we seek
and
find.

Eventide

Tourists stroll along the esplanade in the balmy evening half-light while on the beach a lone fisherman casts his line into a sea that barely moves. The calm waves gently wash the stony shallows free of their seasonal debris and then ebb back to the mass of the ocean with hypnotic grace. Soon there is no sign of the sandy battlements so carefully created just a few hours before.
We have our share of visitors to this Island; some vow to return when they have finished their life’s work – some, like a fish, get caught by its lure never to leave these shores.

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