A gathering to the sea…
The weather report said temperatures were dropping but the Welsh Government said we could go.
It was my sister’s birthday and we had not seen each other or each of our families for too long. West Wales was where we last met to camp in the late summer of 2020. This same campsite and the same coastal loop which filled me with every part of the same joy that it did back then.
Ladened with hot water bottles and the stainless steel inner drums of disused washing machines (for our campfires) we warmed by night and tramped around by day.
A circular coastal walk from camp, filling each of our souls and causing us pausing at different times along the path, to gaze over the edge and down into little inlets of sand accessible only by boat or wings.
This past year has certainly taught me to slowdown and lean more into my curiosity.
I felt this strongly at the point I pushed my camera into micro cave burrowed by birds, which entered via a grassy cliff top edge and exited through rockface and scree to the ocean below. Not knowing the view until I pulled it back out again.
I watched her with cousins, the youngest there, somewhere between child and adult, forever part of the gang. Yet able to lead in her own pathway.
Time to think, time to be and with those we’ve missed and love, in a place we’ve missed and love.
“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.