Summer Evening

The first few days of the summer holidays have passed quietly and quickly, largely spent in the garden and on the beaches around us.  Our end of term beach picnic on Friday was lovely and apart from a minor invasion of flies trying to get to our food, it was a perfect evening.  There were very few people on the beach when we arrived and we stayed until the tide came in and sent us home.  Today the rain has come.  It is weeks since we had any and the land is parched and yellow.  A few hours of gentle rainfall will help it to recover.

But back to Friday evening.  As I said, there were only a few people and their dogs when we arrived and all was quiet, peaceful and relaxed.  I set up my little camp high up on the sand so that I didn't have to move again as the tide crept inwards and raced over the sand towards me.  The sun was hot but a warm breeze stopped things becoming too unbearable and the sea invited us in to cool off.  The children belted down to the shore and were in the sea before I had unpacked my book and sat down.  As I did so, the flies must have felt the warmth of our clothing and my prone form on the sand and swooped in for a free meal.  I hate flies with a passion; they are badly behaved, bad mannered and never give up.  They are only good as a snack for birds and that is the only reason I put up with them.  After a minute or two of battering them away with my book, I accepted that they wouldn't leave me alone, so I gave in and joined the children in the sea.

As they swam about like dolphins, I wandered about along the shore line knee deep and no more.  Pea always instructs me to 'just relax and float'.  She clearly has no concept of how difficult this is to the buoyantly challenged.  I cannot float.  It is a simple as that.  I try, but I sink like a stone.  H2 has inherited this unfortunate trait and he understands exactly what it feels like, although it doesn't stop him from ploughing about in the waves and generally having a good time.

Far from missing out on the swimming, I can snatch a few moments to marvel at the clarity of the water.  Like polished glass it glistens and shines and offers a perfect view of the world beneath its waves.

This gives me far more pleasure than any amount of muscle straining exercise.  After a while though, every one became hungry, so instead of setting the food out in a nice manner as I had planned, it was a case of dive into the bag, grab whatever comes to hand and cover it back up before winged beasts could get in.  We managed perfectly well and ate almost all of it.  At about half past seven, the tide was high on the beach and we were the only ones left.  The children were getting chilly due to being wet, so we grabbed our bags and set off home for hot showers and clean clothes.

We finished off the remains of the picnic standing up in the kitchen, before settling down in the garden to enjoy the last vestiges of warm sun.  Save for the whisper of leaf against stem, the low hum of a late foraging bee and the breath of tiny moth wings, the silence rang in our ears and reverberated across the fields and beyond, seemingly for ever.  My very bones felt like rubber as I sat there and listened to the quiet sounds of the evening as the countryside made ready for night time.  As the sun sank in the west, the moon rose behind me and slowly lit the sky with it's silver glow.  If the rest of the holidays are half as good as this evening has been, I shall be very sorry to see it end.

The down side to such a relaxed beach life is sand.  It is everywhere; in my car, on the patio, in the house and in the washing machine, which I'm sure isn't a good thing.  I have taken to leaving the towels and clothing out on the line all night, letting the wind blow most of the sand away, in the hope that I don't clog up the machine too much.

The drizzle has stopped now and the sun is out again.  There is just enough time to walk the dogs up the lane before I go and fetch Pea from her volunteer work at the RSPB.  Who knows, if it is a nice evening, we may even go to the beach...

Have a lovely evening, what ever you do with it and thank you for reading. xxx