Updated: Mar 1, 2020
The first light of day. Bryher appears suspended between night and day, the glowing, misted pale peach of the rising sun and the cool silver of the fading moon. For a few magical moments they sit and face each other, the two giants of the sky, each having to give way to the other.
The sea is calm but gently flurried by the cool morning breeze. As I sit quietly on the rocks at Green Bay, the golden orb of light breaks across the Tresco horizon and the sea turns to liquid gold.
I can’t swim for long as the busy day lays ahead, packed lunches, the school run, animals to feed and vegetables to plant. However, this quick little piece of solitary beauty is the best way to start the day. I swim a few short lengths and dive down below the metallic coloured surface into the cool pale blue. As I rise up following the silver bubbles of my breath, the surface above me glitters gold and silver in the light. A few seconds floating on my back bathed in the early morning light and silence.
It’s interesting how many people comment on the silence Bryher provides. They say they can’t hear anything, apart from the sea and the birds. There is never total silence, nature is noisy, but those noises don’t bombard our minds as human made noises often do, and so to many, trying to escape to silence, nature is peaceful and healing.
So I lie in the “silence” of calling birds, moving water, gentle breeze, and breathe deep the peace.
I reluctantly leave this world and head back to the farm. The sun is warm on my back and a beautiful shadow follows me up the beach. I walk barefoot back through the farm, the wet grass sticking to my feet, past the little colony of solitary bees who remain buried in their overnight homes, and into the bustle of home, ready for whatever the day brings.
Enjoy your moments of silence.