It’s still raining outside. I don’t think it will ever stop. That’s it. And that’s fine. Once you accept this, you begin to relax a little and are able to get on with your life.
Clearly, I’m lying. I shall repeat what I said before. Grey and rainy for days on end, no. Cold and sunny, yes.
Like some of those magical days we had in Cornwall in December when we escaped London for a few days between Christmas and New Year.
And spent a lot of time outdoors. We got plenty of fresh air.
Watergate Bay. Wintery. Stormy. Deserted. A high tide, almost no beach left. Coffees at the Beach Hut. Lunch at the wonderful Fifteen. Excellent food. The best ingredients. And the best winter cocktails ever (a ‘mince pie martini’ for me and a ‘chestnuts roasting on an open fire’ for the Other Half).
Constantine Bay. Hours passing by. Listening to the loud surf. Thump. Thump. Thump. Waves crashing on the rocks. Big waves. Spray. The sun appearing shyly behind clouds for a few minutes. Stony colourful patterns.
Fistral. Sunny. Windy. Empty.
Porth Island. Gulls on the beach. Watched waves after waves crashing out. And rainbows.