I could hear the waves crashing against the shore last night as I snuggled into bed and again through the night when I awoke, disturbed by Him snoring or the need to pee.
Having found a plethora of procrastinatory pottering to occupy my time this morning, I eventually headed out at about 1030 with Jack. I wanted to delay the anticipation and excitement of seeing such a big angry sea and so took a circuitous route via friends to drop off crockery from NYE, and then Yellowcraig woods in search of a dog poo bin. Note to self: start campaign for more dog poo bins on John Muir Way. There isn’t one for nearly 2 miles from Yellowcraig to South Hamilton Rd by kiddie’s golf course. There is instead an unpleasant number of abandoned green and black bin bags filled with dog poo, and other ignored dog shit littering the John Muir Way. Yes I blame dog owners but more bins are needed.
I walked through the woods towards the leaning Pines, across the rough grass and eventually clambered over the dunes to be greeted by a mass of grey, yellow and white bubbling, seething, foaming, spuming waves. White horses galloping to the shoreline; a few hardy sea birds tossing and turning in the unceasing gusts of wind. Jack and I had sand whipped into our faces and he started to resemble a blond-dipped pooch with yellow paws and muzzle against his thick black hair.
I was reminded of my student days at West Sussex Institute of Higher Education (or WISHE as we called it) on the Bognor Regis campus. My friend, C and I would choose such a ferocious day and head out to the long esplanade that fringed the beach. We would shout at the waves, and laugh and run and hug ourselves with glee before stopping in a favourite café and ordering hot chocolate and toast to warm us up.
Sadly I am also reminded of a night when I was so low, lonely and homesick that I contemplated climbing over the railings and throwing myself in to the ferocious waves. Fortunately I bumped into L, who was similarly feeling down and so we decided to get drunk instead. Wish I knew then what I know now abut anxiety and depression.
Anyhoo, back to today – Broadsands beach was packed with walkers, dog-walkers and runners. Hardy golfers also refused to be thwarted by the high winds and stinging rain and the course was busy.
Jack and I walked for nearly 2hrs and returned cold, wet, tired and elated.
Big Angry Sea – a poem
Come at me
charge at me
catch me if you can
pounding astounding crashing on the sand
seething and climbing
and beating on the rocks
creeping over my boots and licking at my socks.
Comments