Walking in the water

This week I was able to visit the beach. Not a Covid-19 lockdown breakdown party beach, but a long windswept beach in the North Eastern corner of England. The sort of beach that I can, if I’m lucky, have to myself. It was, admittedly, busier than I have ever seen it before. But still quite large enough to accommodate all its visitors: a few families picnicking in the dunes, others playing in the incoming tide. A minority of dog walkers; a handful of fishermen trying their luck on the shore line.

Sandals in hand, I make a beeline through the warm dry sand. One eye fixed on the shoreline, the other checking for broken glass and evidence of canine visitors; I see neither, this is a nice clean beach.

I do not slow my pace as I stride towards the water. Not pausing to wonder the temperature I take the shock in my stride as the cold bites my ankles, cooling my whole self. I turn and start my walk along the very edge of our island. The waves rushing inwards reach to my knees, occasionally splashing beyond the short line. This granny loves paddling.

Along with salty feet, and a small puddle of sand in Mr A’s car; I bring home a memory, my mind cleansed with hues of gold and blue. My locked down soul is refreshed.

One thought on “Walking in the water

  1. Sally, I felt as though I was walking with you, beautifully evoked – the hues of gold and blue. The photograph that looks across the beach partners your writing so well

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s