Hastings Pier has always been my grounding point.
Over the 20 years we’ve been visiting our family in the east, the Pier is a place I’ve gravitated to. And this trip to Hastings to visit family, who we hadn’t since since last summer, saw me back there once more. Quietly observing what has changed and what has stood still during this time away.
It is the halfway point of everywhere I’ve come to know in this old faded and majestic seaside town. It’s my finish line for a morning’s run, the place we’ll meet friends and it’s where Jeanie and I will ‘roll the boards’ on skates, me taking tumbles and attempting tricks my 14-year-self shakes her head at in embarrassment. This activity has sadly been since banned there.
I’m thankful for the walks, for the delight of seeing the beach huts packed with curios and candyfloss, and to walk right to the end to gaze far, far out to sea.
Though on this day, I was thankful just to be able to people- watch and the gift of that 360 view of the beach, promenade and ocean.
For the chance to watch the lovers watching lovers, the banter of my fellow humans coming back to life after lock down, and for the familiar shrill, shriek and cry of the gulls. A place I’ve missed and a place I am happy to call my other home.
“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh, from A Gift from the Sea.