Evoking a mood
Since I decided that Thursday was going to be my shopping day, I've tended to approach the morning with a modicum of dread. Partly it's the necessity to get up and get going - if I arrive by 8.15am, it's quiet and doesn't get too busy before I'm done; be there only slightly later and I have to queue to leave and feel much more oppressed. Today, mind, the oppression came mainly from a shopping couple; I'd heard them on my way in gleefully congratulating each other on being early and getting it quiet. They can't have heard my subliminal imprecations ...
That over, what with breakfast and sunshine, I didn't feel I achieved much for the rest of the morning. Himself had an appointment with the physio after lunch, and I sat reading in the hot garden with the bench and the cushions all to myself and fell asleep. But I'd made a tentative arrangement with my pal to meet later in the afternoon (her man also being occupied in bodyworks, as you might say) and go for a ... something.
And that's how suddenly I felt I was on holiday. I picked her up at her house and drove us both along the faintly terrifying single-track coast road to Ardentinny. We met a couple of chaps who are lockdown recruits to our church and shared a few minutes of jollity, then headed up the hill behind the village by a little path through the long grass and the blaeberries to a forest track. The forest has been clear felled in several places, so there was wonderful light and shade as well as pleasing respite from the hot sun.
My blip is the view from the track as it rejoins the road inland, looking over the waving grass field to Glenfinart Bay, where I paddled the other day. We ended up walking along the beach and out onto the sand spits (to the irritation of the gulls) before wading back through the warm high tide in our sandals, which bear the apparently odd label "waterproof" on the uppers. There's the matter of all the holes ... but at least wading was allowed, and it's much easier than in bare feet.
We talked and talked, and I took photos, and we talked some more. It was all aimless and random - just what a holiday stroll ought to be. I ended up hitching my dress up (no - I did not tuck it into my knickers) and wading in a bit to the smooth sand where I'd paddled at a lower tide. It was quite deep ...
As I drove home, I felt I'd recaptured the essence of summer holiday, 1950s style. I could feel it as well as think it. It's what I've always felt this place should offer - but so rarely achieve.
21 years ago I was at my #1 son's wedding and had just met my #2 son's new girlfriend with whom he was belatedly celebrating their anniversary. Life doesn't half march on ...
Sign in or get an account to comment.