Last night my beloved suggested the evening walk. We hadn’t been for one since I got back from YMG, so I knew that we ought to go. Sometimes I don’t want to – it is warm and cosy at home and it means *doing* something. I am basically a lazy person.
Once out of the door we could smell the sea. We are fortunate that if it rains, even if the weather is bad, we get the delicious smell of the sea.
We walked out in the moonlight, holding hands or arm in arm, and across the green to the dunes. We could hear some birds – they make a pur-witt sound, and we think they might be sand pipers. It is not a curlew. Then there is the sound of gulls and other birds. In the grass and the dark you don’t see them. There is also the low rumble of the tide – from the south and from the west it sounds slightly different as the waves hit the banks in the channel.
The sky was quite clear, though the few clouds were silvered and dragged across the sky. The reflection of the moon on the sea over towards Southport sparkled in heat haze, as did the lights. Further over we could see the lighthouse and the red and green flickering lights that mark the way into the Ribble for the vessels that sail into Preston. There are also a couple of Oil rigs in the bay, and you can see the flames from the top as well as the lights on the rigs themselves.
We discussed the day and how the walk down to the beach wipes the stresses of the day away by massaging our senses. Our voices drifted on the soft warm breeze and our feet felt the crunch of the shell layer and the soft sand giving way to the dune grass.
I would like to say that I tasted salt on my lips, but I didn’t really. Otherwise, though, my senses were fully engaged.
Can you tell that I feel blessed to have these warm, evening walks with my beloved?
Here are a couple of pictures of the place that I took during the daytime on Sunday and earlier in the year.