a secret beach

It was a 5 minute walk down a track. We parked at the end of (the very aptly named) Beach Road. I was expecting a stretch of beach, a few moments of fresh sea air and then an about turn back to the car. Very good.

The track ends and there are several benches all facing out to sea. Perched atop a cliff looking down onto the open sea, sand as far as you can see and not a single soul in sight... A beach of ones own.

Look at the water. We need to go, I said.

We looked for the path and we saw two souls; a lovely old couple snuggling on a bench with a flask of tea between them. Lovely. I wish I had some tea, I said. We didn't need tea though not with a whole beach. There was a plaque tacked to the cliff in commemoration of the man who carved the path down to the beach. He was a good man. We said a quick thank you and then made our way down the path. Let's gooooo.

Apparently I can't run in a straight line...
Photo by L. Stokoe

I dropped my bag, took off my shoes and ran to the sea. It felt good. The only footprints in the sand. The water was freezing. The North Sea in March is very cold. Makes you feel alive. Your toes throb red in the cold and you find yourself squealing and puffing with the cold. ALIVE. I highly recommend it, but you'll have to find your own secret beach.

tomorrow

I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about yoga, and tomorrow.

The possibilities of tomorrow.

I have decided I’m goin to practise in my garden with the grass between my toes.

And the grass and the earth beneath my hands.

And fresh air!

Exciting.

I hope it doesn’t rain.

smile, it's okay

a sponge
absorbing everyone's vocal outbursts
mostly negative
damp and soaking sponge
patches of mildew
people have forgotten
about you sponge
growing moldy
storing bad nasty stuff
someone should give you
a wee squeeze sponge
and sit you next to the window sill
where you can enjoy the sun
and listen to her stories

NOVA

lurking in your mug
a curdled mass
a cloudy coffee
a coffee cloud
give it a swirl
it hides and
disappears

resting on the coaster
you peer over the edge
it stares back
now its settled
it just stares

sit back
and think

without looking again
take the handle
walk towards the sink
in an instant
it disappears
with the running tap

you win

The writing test

Behind the screen there was a table for one and a seat. On the table there was a selection of perfectly sharpened pencils. The pencils were all the same - painted yellow and carefully carved to the same pointy tip. There was a choice but not really.

5 mins the man said.