This morning the sea was fair raging, not full on crazy, but enough to make even me think twice and with reluctance, finally decide to retreat and miss out on a swim. However, I expected it to still be full on breakers and white horses at lunchtime (it has been so for a full week or more), but it had been transformed in a way I could scarcely credit and was, somewhat to my disappointment, verging on flat calm.
Shame!
The sky was meanwhile having a moment of its own. Over there, all blue. And there, fluffy cotton wool clouds. And there, well over there the sun has gained a halo. Though it does not look at all angelic. Foreboding or spooky maybe, the kind of sky that has me on the lookout for a plague of locusts or a rain of frogs. If the beach had suddenly erupted with zombie mummies flapping in bandages I think my reaction might have been ‘ok, fair enough’.
Again it is almost a disappointment that the beach remains quiet, deserted and conspicuously mummy free when I wade shivering back through the shallows. .
The shivers won’t last, I have 2 fish crates loaded with rubbish to drag up the hill. Windmills charge!
Swimming Wild Outdoors 