I wanted a spade


It was difficult not to walk into the pools:  the water was so clear and still as to be invisible.


I liked this texture:


I wanted a spade, as it was a day to dig moats and dykes, but I made do with gouging a ruler in the sand, then sat on a knobbly lump of concrete and waited for the sea to do something.

It took a while.  The waves were dithering  about, fussing, making little rushes, getting in each others’ way, occasionally going sideways, or deciding not to bother at all.

On the quiet, however, the tide was coming in, as I sat warming in the late sun.

Eventually the Channel sent in a few waves with a hint of a deep sea-going boom.  I emerged from a trance just in time to catch the obliteration of my final mark.

[vimeo 89043365]

With the last three waves the fog came, getting into my ears, setting dew on my hair and disappearing the world.


2 responses »

  1. My wife’s grandfather used to sit in front of his fire and gaze at the flames. One of his favourite remarks was: “You’re never alone with a coal fire.” I knew what he meant because I do the same thing occasionally.
    It’s the same with the sea. It is movement and energy, and entertainment and company. It never lets you down because it’s completely dependable – though rather rough at times.
    Like the pictures, Alen

    • I’d certainly agree with all that. And the same beach is different every time (though it may not look like it from the rather amateur photos I post). Plus, because the sea is always active and moving, I don’t have to do any fidgeting myself and can settle down.

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