Letting go on the waterline
Posted on September 15, 2015
Last week we stole a few days away from desks and deadlines and phones. We set planning and computers to one side, and stepped out along the coast path of Pembrokeshire. Within a few hours, I felt a release from a pace of life that has been very busy of late, but it wasn't until the third day that I really felt the slow-down, in every fibre of my being. I sunk into slow time at Swan Lake Beach, a stunning bay not far from the house where Rob grew up. Unusually, the sea was calm - the waves there are normally quite menacing.
The blog posts and pieces that I write pretty much always emerge from a set of initial notes, typically tapped into my signal-less iPhone - so to go with the freeflow of that third day on the Welsh coast, I thought I'd share the notes I made. And some pictures from Rob to show what it was like that day.
walking barefoot by the waterline on fine shingle sand with nothing to think about except walking barefoot by the waterline on fine shingle sand and the feel of hundreds of minuscule stones giving way beneath my soles and the sound of the soft crunch with each footstep and the lush hush ssshhh of the low waves coming in and sucking out and the heat of the sun warming my back and turning the sea into shimmerlight and the joy of my dog waiting for another stone thrown into blue for an excuse to jump in and swim and the feel of the cool water washing over my feet with every third set of waves and coming further up the shingle in a fuzz of white bubbles and the ground falling away from beneath my feet with the outgoing wave and I have nothing to think about only the sensation of walking barefoot by the waterline on fine shingle sand all the way along the beach with my feet in and out of water and the stony earth shifting and the sun on my back and walking and walking until rob behind me is a dot
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