This is one of the reasons I enjoy being away in the motorhome. The other one is that the housework is done very quickly.
The pitch was right on the foreshore at Crail, in Fife, so not only could we see the wildlife, we could also hear the waves. Lulled to sleep at night (and in between) and gentled awake in the morning. Magical. Near high tide a whole flock of cormorants flew in to balance precariously on the rocks along with oyster catchers and curlews. Presumably the birds were lured by the prospect of plenty of fish as the rock pools filled up and then the fish were stranded as the tide receded. On our last day the usual gaggle were joined by two eider ducks.
On one of the days we visited St Andrews -there have obviously been many changes over the last 25 years or so since I was a student there. Every time I turned a corner I expected to meet people I knew, but of course they were all in my head. The town is still pretty, and looks as if it means business due to the schools, university buildings, Halls of Residence, golf courses and multitudinous eateries of every taste. The only difference was that the students all looked about 12 years old. A serendipitous phone call meant that we were able to meet up with Son #1 and entourage for lunch. After that – it felt like old times.
I had to hold onto HBTW in order to be safe navigating the streets – my vision makes it hazardous to be around traffic and uneven pavements. However, it is perfectly possible to indulge in retail therapy with double everything on view. in fact, I can feel a little shopping coming on soon. Being on the 2:5 regime has meant that I have gone down by three to four dress sizes – though I hardly wear dresses these days. Methinks I need to visit an actual shop to try on trousers for fit. It’s too complicated to order up and return multiple clothes from online vendors.
It’s funny – when I restarted my blog I thought I would be concentrating on the great and the good, or the worthy and the meaningful. The fact that I am tending to talk about sunrises and wildlife and housekeeping would suggest that in fact I lead a very little life. There is no longer the weekly struggle to make sense of a text for the pulpit – (I mean for a congregation . . . . . . ) – indeed to be honest I would find it hard to tackle today’s big issues. Things like immigration, asylum seekers, violence of any kind, politics, capitalism . . . . . . . and so it goes on and on. How on earth did I every manage? I suspect, not as well as might have hoped when I graduated from St Andrews. And yet I carry something of the ethos of that time, for which I am truly grateful.
Maybe I shall leave the big questions for another day.
Blessings from Dalamory.