A Short Walk

A Short Walk

After three months of no wine, my cholesterol reading went up. Perhaps I should stop eating chocolate biscuits, or embrace the fact that drinking wine might be good for me. I decide that a spot of exercise wouldn’t go amiss, so I walk from the house, along the country road, cut in at the summer camp and along the beach as far as the Doctors house. It’s a short walk but it’s a fine day and with my back towards the setting sun, I sit on a dry mound of sand where grasses in scattered bunches grow indiscriminately. It is a good place to be still for a while. The tide is out; children chase playful dogs, their laughter carries smiles and happiness enough for everyone. People are walking the long stretch of yellow sand, some alone, some in groups, their voices drift into late afternoon.

As the sun sinks further into the west, walkers leave for home, families pack up their belongings, reluctant children beg for a little more play. The light is changing; the beach is becoming more of what it really is. Go quickly now or stay.

About maskednative

I live in Ireland, in an extended cottage overlooking Waterford Estuary, privvy to constant changes of light on water, colour and movement, tides and people. I am anglo-Irish and although my initial intention was to live here for a year and a day, I am still here, a blow-in to these shores for the past fifteen years. There have been countless times when I wanted to run back to England with homesickness and relief, but for one reason or another, so far, it has not been possible. I surrender, the soul of Ireland has captured me, allowed a glimpse of the world behind the mask of everyday experiences, bringing forth a mixture of words and pictures from an ordinary everyday life, filled with ordinary everydayness that I offer as a celebration, to the creator of this truly wonderful planet.
This entry was posted in Life, Love and the Universe. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to A Short Walk

  1. Rich says:

    Nice photo it reminds me of the poem by Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and the Carpenter.

    “A pleasant walk a pleasant talk along the briny beach”


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