Wild Writing

My blog today is more about a pondering walk rather than swimming, although I did enjoy a rather refreshing dip first thing this morning.

I am realising how lovely and important it is for me to write outside, whatever the weather, it’s all part of the charm. If I ever feel uninspired or struggling for words, going outside with notebook and pencil always helps. It’s here in nature that my thoughts tumble over each other, words wanting to get out, and it feels like luxuary to be able to write them down.

I start my walk meandering across Green Bay. The tide is far out, the channel an empty expanse of wet clay-like sand and heaps of weed. The colours and shapes of the weeds are beautiful.

just a few different seaweeds

The rain, which is light as dust, settles on the paper, threatening to disolve my words. It blows in and out like breath, the breath of the sea-mist creature.

I wander parts of the coastline I don’t normally go to, looking for treasure, searching for words. It’s raining properly now. Thick, still, grey mizzle all around me.

I scramble off the beach over the smooth granite bolders and up onto the coastal path that circumnavigates Samson Hill. The sun comes out all light-hearted and warm. The wet ground glistens, the path is mossy and muddy in places and my feet slip ever-so-slightly in my too big for me boots, them in turn sliding in the mud.

Pale sand banks and dark rocks are slowly submerging beneath the incoming tide. I sit for a while and write some thoughts and ideas for future writing projects.

the island is always inspiring

Heading toward home now, back along the beach at Great Par, where hundreds of By-The-wind Sailors have washed up, along with several Man of War jellyfish. Their irredescent colours gleaming in the sunlight.


I return to the farm feeling calm, full of fresh air and plans. Nothing beats a lovely walk with a notebook…well apart from a wild swim of course!

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