2 min read
19 Sep
19Sep

                       

                                                                        

Each morning before beginning my four-hour writing stint, I take a forty- minute walk along the sea road of my local beach, a daily constitutional which I find rids my mind of unwanted concerns. And each morning I am greeted by new surprises as the mighty ocean reveals it’s ever-changing moods. I’ve captured on camera its flat-calm serenity — a transparent aquamarine jewel reflecting the cloudless summer sky. I’ve captured outgoing tides, so low that the rocky landscape revealed bears no resemblance to the hitherto remembered scene, wondering if the ocean in a fit-of-peak had decided to abandon this small section of our coastline. Then to find a few days later, I’m playing ‘chicken’, darting between its roaring, angry bouts of fury as huge waves crash over the sea wall, leaving pebbles of no mean size strewn across the road, where they’ve been cast into the path of wary motorists. I adore the sea! I feel so privileged to live within a short distance of this perilous, ever-changing, beautiful, moody monster. So much so that when my life’s dance comes to an end, I would deem it a great honour for my ashes to be scattered upon its undulating surface and be embraced within its watery, salty folds.

                       

The above paragraph is an excerpt taken from my latest book, Feather On The Breeze, My Life In My Hands. For the last two days, whilst taking my daily walk along the sea road, there has been a tremendous change in the weather. Gone is the flat calm serenity of the sea reflecting a cloudless blue sky and warm early mornings requiring the minimum of clothing. We have now entered a period of high winds, rough seas and temperatures that demand hoodies or lined jackets. In spite of these perceived negatives, the same walkers, runners, fishermen and boaters are still, like me, visible each morning along this wonderful stretch of coastline. You can hear the screeches of delight as the waves crash over the sea wall, catching out those unaware of the places to avoid. Yesterday, I witnessed a stationary car on the sea road where waves constantly crashed over its roof whilst the occupants, gleefully captured the drama on their phones.

                       

Change happens, and this is never more clearly shown than in the seas around us. We are a part of nature, better to embrace the changes we have no power over and just go with the flow.

                       


                                                                                       
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