“Let’s go out,” I said on impulse. We are blessed to live a very short drive from the sea. It’s always exhilarating to arrive at the beach, breathe in the salt-laced air and listen to waves swishing loudly as they crash against rocks and over shingle. It had been sunny when we left for Seaton, but on arrival, the skies clouded over for a while, although this enhanced the ambiance and gave depth to nature’s colours.
As our boots crunched over the shore, there was a hum of energy. Surfers crested glinting waves; their voices swept towards us as we tried to capture the atmosphere on camera before they disappeared under the foam, resurfaced, and paddled vigorously back towards the horizon in anticipation of another thrilling ride.
Further along the coastline, there was much activity. Even the dogs out with walkers seemed to be friendlier and more boisterous, as they found pieces of driftwood for folk to play games with them.
I was delighted by quite a large lonely heart formed in the sand with pebbles and wondered if there was a reason for it. Maybe a child or children arranged it for their mother, or it could have been formed by lovers sealing a sentiment? Of course, it could have been pressed into place purely for entertainment and art, but the writer in me won’t allow that, and an idea for a short story started brewing. Surfing, barking dogs, a stony heart. Oh, and I forgot to mention the legendary Looe Island rising from the sea in the distance. I don’t know about a short story, it’s turning out to be more of a novel, so I had best get a move on and finish the one I’ve been writing forever.
Until next time,
Sue. X