Wild Soul

Updated: Mar 1

The blog has sadly been shuffled to the end of a list of to dos for the past few days. It’s been half term, we have had friends staying, lots of picking to do and on top of all that the bees keep swarming.

There is an old bee keeping saying;

A swarm in June is worth a silver spoon, but a swarm in July is not worth a fly.

I’m not sure what they would call six swarms in May?!

However, I think we are winning with the busy little creatures, we have gone from two hives to four, and have three beautiful new queens, who will hopefully produce healthy, strong colonies to last the winter.

So this afternoon felt like such a treat, to escape and take some time to myself. As I walked down through the farm, the long daisies rattled and tapped against my bare toes. The smell of bonfire smoke stirs memories of summer bonfires and BBQs when I was younger, those long, hot summer days of your childhood that seemed to go on for ever.

Over the bank of yellow flowering Hottentot fig, there sounds a roaring swell, but the wind is warm on my skin and the sunshine is dazzling to the eye. The ground across Heathy is hard sand, with a carpet of dainty, soft pink Sea Thrift, its fragrant smell as sweet as honey. Tiny orchid-like yellow and burnt orange flowers of Birds Foot Trefoil are caught in the breeze and dance tight to the ground.

At Stony Porth the deep blue sea is flurried and sparkling silver, choppy and brilliant, with a powder blue, and wispy white sky above. The high tide smacks and sloshes against the large granite boulders, and as I sit on the strand and listen, I feel my breathing soften.

Sand hoppers bounce along the thong weed that has wrapped itself around the smooth rocks.

I am not prepared to swim, I only intended to walk and sketch, but the water is far too tempting to ignore, so I’m soon tottering over the rocks, rather ungainly and awkwardly, into the water in my underwear. It is exhilarating and empowering to acknowledge and embrace this freedom of a wild soul within me. A land creature, but one who enjoys the thrill of entering this magical, watery world, if only for a short while. Somewhere deep within, this connection with nature on such an immediate level, makes my heart smile and my soul sing.

I know there is a seal out here with me too, it was there as I sat on the rocks, but now I’m in the sea, it has disappeared. The thong weed winds and snakes itself over my arms like long green, silky ribbons. The water is so warm and luxurious on my skin. Oyster catchers peep on the rocks in the distance and a swallow darts along the water’s edge and then away over the land.

On my return home, the heat of the sun warms my cool, damp back and I feel the business and work of the past few days have been washed away, and I am rejuvenated once again.

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