Well here it is the seat by the beach. My favourite spot. The only place where phone reception is half decent. But it is more than that. It is a place where you can watch the ever changing sea, the white horse either trotting on the beach with little more than a winney. Or they crash like some magnificent war horse, mouth foaming and roaring in the malstrom. So it is goodbye to this as we are coming home. It is two days early but not surprising. I have not managed to stay away in this country for more than a few days. We always come early. It is usually the little things that start to drag; the phone reception, the shower, the slight smell of dog, the feeling of camping out. All contribute to a tickle which by the fifth days starts to build into a tidal wave that is unstoppable. I’ll miss my seat. I miss the gannets out im bay as they endlessly dive for fish. The people walking arm in arm on the beach. The young families and grand parents taking advantage of low season prices. The condecending looks of passers by as I sit here writing this on my phone. But I have had enough and so it is time to go batteries recharged.
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