Green Bay towards St Marys
The light is what really captures me this morning. As the sun rises, the light appears so clean and clear, full of soft hues of icy blue, alabaster and the palest amber.
A strong, fresh easterly breeze has whipped the sea into a frenzy, boats bob and the heavy green seedheads of the agapanthus plants dance and sway.
As I walk along the track through Veronica Farm, Green Bay is now almost empty of boats. I remember the summer where yaghts and punts filled the bay, their anchors and running lines stretching across the sand. I think of friends, Sara and Clem on their boat Lyonesse, and the family of South Star, that for a short while called Green Bay home. Where their days were spent in the sun, rockpooling, beach combing and maintaing the boat.
Now the sea is rough, the wind is setting in, the light is cool, the bay empty and the summer has faded to memory. It feels that wild swims and the hunkering down days of winter are just around the corner.
My swim had no rhythm or grace. I was bounced and swirled around by the waves, and when I tried to catch a glimpse of the horizon to get my bearings, I was confronted by a wall of bluegrey water that would swamp me given have a chance.
For the twenty minutes or so that I splashed around pretending to swim, my world was full of movement, noise, salty spray, blurred light and bubbles.
A fun and exhilarating way to start my day.