Sunday, April 13, 2008

Beach Party Without a Blanket




Yesterday I took part with the Brough Bay Association in their semi annual beach clean up and fix up. Despite some showers and the ever present gusts of wind, it was a lovely day.




New events are always a bit of a challenge for me because that part of me that is the shy child who could go all day at school without speaking is still there. New situations and new people bring her out. I had something to do, which helps, and I knew at least two people there, but in the idled moments as we took a break for some lunch, I began to feel awkward and wandered down to the beach with my camera.


The tide was out, so the beach was full of sea weed--wrack, is the more accurate term, I think. I love its shiny, tangled masses on the beach and recently enjoyed knitting a scarf that simulated the colour and movement of sea weed. Two dogs frolicked on the beach--one jumped in; the other acted like a lifeguard or coxswain barking instructions to the swimming dog.


I walked, camera in hand, preoccupied by the light on a particularly fine tangle of seaweed when I noticed I had been joined by a young man. We talked about sea weed and it seemed perfectly natural when we found a long stem to put this stem back in the water in the hopes that the sea weed might grow again. He was looking at shells, so I picked up a limpet shell for him and told him the name and how it lived. As we walked back to the cliffside where we were working, I met his father and discovered that they had been living for some time in Wisconsin. We talked of snowstorms and 40 degree below zero weather and all that land around us with the sound of the ocean acting like a Greek chorus, reminding us why we are here.
I could sit for hours watching the shapes and colours of the water and the rocks and the birds--if you can tear me away from the sea weed, that is, but this day I had a duty to the beach to perform, so I said goodbye to my little friend from Wisconsin and went back to work.


The sun came out unreservedly in the early afternoon as the last of the workers climbed up the hill taking tools and cookware and umbrellas with them. The birds reclaimed their space: a kestrel hovered above the cliff edge and the gulls flew over the slipway.



7 Comments:

At 10:09 PM, Blogger TerriRainer said...

Sounds like you have found your own small slice of heaven!

:)
Terri

 
At 10:24 PM, Blogger TerriRainer said...

I read a previous post that you mentioned Caithness...is that where you are???

:)
Terri

 
At 10:46 PM, Anonymous ampiggy said...

Lovely and evocative. I wonder whether the phrase wrack and ruin is related to the name for seaweed. I'm glad you were able to say "recently" in connection with the knitting project, meaning, I hope, it is finished.

 
At 2:33 PM, Blogger Hayden said...

sounds like an absolutely lovely day.

 
At 9:35 PM, Blogger landgirl said...

Hello, terrirainer, yes I am in Caithness--land of the people of the Cat. I saw you had Girnigoe castle on your blog. Have you been here? It is very pretty up here.

 
At 9:37 PM, Blogger landgirl said...

Yup, Hayden a very good day. Everyone ws happy to be where they were even when the rain splatted us. Really lifted my spirits.

Hmm, ampiggy, I wonder about that phrase. How to find out?

 
At 9:45 PM, Blogger TerriRainer said...

I actually have a poodle named Girnigoe, although I have never been to Scotland.

That being said, some day I want to come to Caithness so that I can visit Girnigoe (among other things).

I write historical romance, and the setting is northern Scotland, along with using the name Sinclair.

:) Terri

 

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