Thursday, September 27, 2007

Beyond the Sandstone Arch

Findhorn Beach

Wednesday September 19, 2007:

The low sun warmed our landward cheeks as we stepped carefully upon the chattering tumbling pebbles. The tide was high but not yet full. The sea-breeze buffeted our seaward cheeks as we tottered across the piles of shifting stones.

I had a desire to lie, wrapped against the cold, my woolly hat over my ears and just be. Snoozing on a quiet beach in the afternoon was my current idea of bliss. My fingers longed to push into the crevices between the pebbles, tenderly brushing way the grains of wet sand, searching, always searching for that special stone. I flopped down on my belly and began lazily to sort through the nearby pebbles.

The pebbles held me and I shifted to get them to roll and cradle my body. All was quiet. My companion lay spread-eagled upon the sand nearer the water’s edge. The sea sang her lullaby and I allowed myself to drift. After all, there was nothing to do, nowhere else to be but here.
The beach I was walking on was flat. Pebbles, all shapes and sizes, all shades of grey and cream, crunched beneath my feet. The sun behind me, threw a great pointing shadow along the water’s edge.

Ahead of me rose a natural sandstone arch glowing pinkly in the afternoon sun. As I approach, I saw beyond it, the curve of a cove, the water edged by soft warm golden orange and red sandstone boulders. It looked beautiful.

The cove was deserted. Great golden orange cliffs rose from the softly rounded rocks. I sat by the water’s edge to rest and watched the late afternoon sun glinting on the gently moving water.

The tall cliffs curved to almost enclose the little cove. Beyond the jutting headlands, the greyer choppier sea danced in the stiff breeze beyond. It was calling me!

I strode into the water, striking out across the cove. Soon I was in the wilder greyer sea beyond. And then I was swimming round the headland, past the arch under which I had walked, back to the pebbly beach from which I had come. I rolled in the turning waves and allowed them to propel me on the current, to bring me to the shore and back home again.

The sea sounded closer now. I was beginning to get a bit cold. The sun had sunk beyond the sand dunes. Carefully, I rolled over and staggered to my feet, my hands full of round, warm pebbles, all needing to come home with me! I stretched and called to my still snoozing companion lying by the encroaching water.

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