Footprints in the Sand

Updated: Mar 1

Once again the skies are cloudless blue and the sun is beating down. The farm is quickly turning from the lush green that it was a few days ago, to a crisp, brown dustbowl.

Our lovely friend Clare leaves us tomorrow, she’s been here a month, helping on the farm and falling in love with Bryher. We thought we would take her for a picnic. A super special picnic at the bottom of the sea! Luckily it’s spring tides, the water in the channel is about 0.7m deep thus allowi g us to wade out through the warm shallows, and find a picturesque spot on the sandbank to sit and eat our lunch.

The sand of the sand bank was so soft we could dig our toes into it. A light breeze kept the air temperature pleasant and just in front the sea sparked and twinkled as it flurried by.

A myriad of folk paddle, fish for shrimp and kayak. Gulls search the shallows and drying clumps of weed for forage. In the sand they leave their footprints.

After our picnic of homemade herb pitta with Hillside salad, tomatoes and kale pesto, I couldn’t resist a quick dip in the lagoon between our sandbank and Samson Hill.

The water so shallow, warm and clear. It felt like I was in the Mediterranean not the Atlantic. Strands of sea spaghetti slicked along my limbs flowing long and gracefully in the tidal current.

Such a wonderful way to enjoy these islands, always somewhere new to explore. Leaving the shrimpers to find their supper, I headed home past all the yaghts stranded on the sand.

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