Eighth Seotember Blog


Eighth September Blog.

Ocean to Shore.

…., brine-filled waves caress the sand,
seabirds caw above the land,
They cry, seeking solitary nests,
even though they fly abreast.
Red rocks, bastions, hold back waves
that leap to shore, to land they crave.
Calm, in its infinity,
ever tiding, ocean be.
Gusting winds, of hurricane,
Rushing in, torrential rain,
Mixing salty ocean’s flow,
O’er rocks and crevices, they go.
Leaving pools, crustacions free,
And silver fish, and anemonies.
Reflecting cliffs in sunlight, stand,
Whilst up above the puffins land,
Running in burrows, babes to fill
With fish, they gather in their bills.
Such are coastal beaches shown,
When oceans stroll the shore alone.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. Septembe, 2015.

Being born, brought up and still living in England, one gets used to being surrounded by water. One lives with am ‘island’ mentality. We are separate, we have our own shores. Small, maybe! No, we are great!

Personally, over time, I would definitely miss being an ‘islander’. It is great to visit other places: countries, towns, Continents, for they are different from us. Mostly, now that world transport is available to all, )and for the most part, we Brits. visit other Continents – Europe, the Americas, Australia, Africa, India and so on) we tend to travel, see what other parts of our world are like. But actually living on a large Continent, where we would be surrounded by huge swathes of land, with nary an ocean for many hundreds of miles, we might find that propsition quite hard. We would miss the ocean. We British have an ongoing joy of breeding seafarers: of knowing that, just a few miles down the road, in most directions, is a cosseting, warming ocean. Our protection, if you will, our heritage too. After all, our navies have fought battles, sought other treasures new Continents could give us, learning about new animals/birds/insects etc, not to nention strange and exotic plants. The sea, shall we say, has bern our oyster, to coin phrases. And I make no bones about flying the British, nay English flag hete. I am proud to be English..

I would find it very hard to live anywhere where,, if I desparately wanted, there was not a coastal plain, a beach, a shoreline within two hours drive,at the very most – some much closer than that.

I have, in the past, gone down to the coast, many a times for holidays, a day out. But even before I can see the sea, several miles still inland, I can tell we are not far away. The air changes. One begins to discern the slightly salty tang of ocean breezes. The smell is palpable.

In fact, there are times, on an early morning, 2 miles down the road ftom where I live, that that special aroma wafts in around a certain area. Possibly gulls bring it in with them ( though most gulls living around here have probably seldom seen the sea) or maybe it is a chemical mix, I don”t know the reason. All I know is that, on those occasions, the self same salty smell (a bit like seaweed eginning to dry out on a cooling beach) can be discerned. Perhaps it is just a memory jog, some peculiar instinct that is triggered by a combination of aromas that set the mind thinking ‘this smells like being at the coast!’

O.k. There maybe few of us left who have this innate ability to be at one with the sea, even though we may have been born and raised in a city, or on the outskirts of one. But my famoly glong to that breed.

A thought, though, has just occurred. Possibly spurious, but we do not live that many miles away from our largest river, the River Thames, which is TIDAL! That is a thought! Maybe the ocean salts are carried upriver from the coast, via the Thames water, and although not that near, winds might carry those scents across these fewer miles to the place not far ftom where I live. Worth a punt!

As always, I wish my readers joy and prevail on you to keep safe.



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