Lonely?

After a day coloured by post-Christmas blues (the three of us a bit frazzled and grouchy), I suggested a trip to Sandymount to get a walk in and catch the last light. It turned out to be a good idea.

The tide was way out, leaving the dark wrinkled sand full of quicksilver pools. Though the wean had objected to a walk at first, as soon as he got his Thomas The Tank Engine wellies on he was happy enough, not just splashing, but kicking up huge rills of cold water, getting thoroughly soaked (luckily, we had some dry clothes for him in the car). The wife also got her feet wet, not having had the time to swop her dainty red shoes for a pair of boots.

As we walked back to the car (i had to hurry to head him off from getting to the carpark before me), I noticed the sky over the Pigeon House was the faintest shade of creamy pink, edged by silver-grey clouds, a band of colour draining from the sky, a kind of lightening as the overall sky purpled and darkened. By the time we reached the car that last faint flush had all but gone.

I don't tend to go in for family snaps. When I showed the wean this picture he asked me: 'Why is he lonely?' I think what he meant was 'alone'. I reminded him that his dad was there taking the photo and his mum was nearby, just out of the picture. But I guess he has a point. The photo does suggest something more lonely, which was a barely conscious but deliberate choice on my part: to dramatise, frame the edge of a story, even if it isn't the 'true' one.