A HUNDRED AND ONE STEPS

I closed my eyes. The sea roared in the distance, and the sun was still warm on my face.

Right foot in front of left. Eyes shut. The sand bounced beneath my trainer the way that wet, tide-bound sand always does. Left in front of right. Right in front of left. My eyelids fluttered.

Forty-seven was my record - one rainy day in the church garden. Here though, on this vast expanse of open, flat sand, I knew I could beat it. I flung my hands behind my back and I walked, listening to the sea grow louder, feeling the warmth of the sun on my eyelids, and the springy sand beneath me.

There were small stones buried in the sand. I could feel them through my soles. There were larger rocks too, I knew that, I’d seen them before I decided to close my eyes and walk in a straight line. Of course, you can’t actually walk in a straight line with your eyes closed; something in our brains makes us spiral, no matter how hard we try. I could easily have stumbled on some unexpected boulder, jammed into the wet sand.

The wind picked up. My shorts and t-shirt started flapping like flags around my limbs. I heard a dog, thumping the sand at a hundred miles an hour. Still my eyes were shut.

“Sixty seven, sixty eight, sixty nine...”

What if I reach the sea before I stop? I could already hear the squelch of my trainers, and the waves were crashing louder ahead of me. Perhaps I would keep walking, right into the Atlantic Ocean, until it was up to my knees, my waist, my chest? I thought perhaps the quest for the record might not necessarily stretch that far. Plus the newspaper headlines would be unbearable for everyone who knew me before I got swept out to sea while counting how far I could walk with my eyes closed.

“Eighty four, eighty five, eighty six.” Still sand. The ocean roared. “Eighty seven, eighty eight, eighty nine, ninety.”

Is this like life? Walking blind, along a sunswept beach, in a much larger world of sky, ocean, rock and sunshine? Is there more out there, if we open our eyes, instead of just randomly heading into the sea... for no reason? What are we all afraid of?

Of course, it’s pretty easy to just open your eyes, when you think about it.

“Ninety eight, ninety nine, one hundred.”

I stopped. My eyes flicked open and I stepped (one hundred and one) into the bright sunshine.

Rhossili beach swam into focus. Worm’s Head, the serpentine rocks that jut into the sea, were basking lizard-like in the sun, the light falling onto the green and dark, glistening rock. The sea, clear and blue crashed in white horses as the tide rolled in, and there at my feet, the edge of the waves swirled around the tips of my trainers.

I looked back at the sand. A chain of footprints trailed back to shore, curving off  to the bank of dunes and the steep, grassy climb to the village. A hundred steps suddenly looked a lot further than I’d imagined. I’d come a long way with my eyes closed.

Just imagine what we could do with them open!