Masked Native

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.