The sky is seaside blue today. I really like it. Cloudless, just like it is on holiday. When I see the trees, or the roofs of houses in the village, it’s less of a stretch to believe that the ocean might be just behind them.
Oh the sea! White foam and green waves, deep and glistening, rushing and roaring, waiting for me with sparkling wet sand, pockmarked with ocean-washed pebbles. There, just behind the Co-Op where the seagulls rip old chips from discarded newspaper and tired kids drag sandy surfboards back to their parents car.
I mean it’s a good job the sea isn’t lapping around the Co-Op car park. That would mean the South of England is having a very bad time of it. Perhaps it would better to imagine our town somehow transported to the coast. Then the sea could be just over those trees.
I’d just go and sit and think I reckon. I’d go and think about how stressful it is trying to buy a house. Or about imposter syndrome in a job you’ve been doing for a year and what that means. I’d watch the waves rush in, see the little boats stacked up on the misty horizon. Then I’d put my head back in the grass and listen to the gulls on the breeze.
Well. Anyway. It’s nice to see the sky looking so hopeful.
No comments:
Post a Comment