A couple of days ago it snowed again, so once more we've been stuck on the smallholding. I'm unwilling to try walking the four miles to town with Megan in a sling - in case I slip on the ice and accidentally destroy her. To save us from cabin fever, Phil suggested we go on a little walk around the land this evening, and I persuaded him to wear Megan (he has really good grips on his boots!) which gave me a break from carrying the stone or so that she weighs (now when anyone tells me they've lost a stone, I am extremely impressed. Before Megan, I had no idea how heavy a stone was). We wrapped her up well in several layers, as well as leg warmers and a Peruvian hat with ear flaps, then attached a fleece blanket around her over the top of the sling. She looked like she was being carried in a royal chariot.
It was getting dark as we left the house and headed up the track, the remaining patches of snow shining out bright white in contrast to the dark wet patches. Megan was happy to be out in the air, and stopped her fretful teething for the duration. Then something strange happened. Phil noticed that Meg was staring at the darkening sky, a look of consternation on her face. We turned to see what it was that had caught her attention, and saw the moon. As you know, Megan loves light fittings, but her reaction to this - the most regal of all the natural light fittings supplied with the earth (save the sun, the Mother of all Light Fittings) - was not giggly and light-hearted. Instead she took the moon very seriously indeed, giving it her full attention. She was very calm and very focused. It seemed like an important moment in her life so far. It crossed my mind that this was the very first time she had seen the moon. How amazing to be witnessing all of these firsts. And somehow it is as though I am experiencing them for the first time too, by proxy, through Megan.
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
A Sunny Sunday Walk by the Sea
Day Thirty One.
Sunday 3rd January.
It was such a bright and sunny day that we had to do something with it, in the great outdoors. So we packed up some fruit and jumped in the car to drive to Ynyslas in order go for a long walk along Borth beach. It was a funny walk in some ways, and we've done it before and enjoyed it immensely. We park at Ynyslas golf club, then precariously pick our way along the sea wall, looking out for interesting bits of driftwood and all the random things which have been washed up. This time there wasn't much in the way of flotsam, but the strange conveyor-belt feeling you get from walking along the narrow wooden wall made up for that. It quickly starts to feel weirdly mechanical, as though the wall were moving towards you rather than you actively moving along it, and you start to feel like you might have been hypnotised and any minute now you'll wake up and stumble out of the trance and fall into the pebbles.
We bumped into a couple of Borth-dwelling friends, and had a lovely pot of tea with Jonno, who showed us his latest project - a genuine gypsy caravan which has rotten away to leave nothing but a sturdy base and undercarriage decked in bright red and yellow paint. As a carpenter he'll have no problems renovating it, and when it's finished it'll live at the end of the garden: a beautiful and highly decorated get-away! Oh, the romance of it! :)
We ate hot pies in the sun (the chip shops we'd been getting excited about were all closed, unfortunately) then headed back up the beach, taking time to marvel at the petrified forest (only stumps remaining, but impressive ones).
No photos today, as I decided I wanted to experience it firsthand, rather than from behind a lens... But you can see a panoramic view of the beach here.
Sunday 3rd January.
It was such a bright and sunny day that we had to do something with it, in the great outdoors. So we packed up some fruit and jumped in the car to drive to Ynyslas in order go for a long walk along Borth beach. It was a funny walk in some ways, and we've done it before and enjoyed it immensely. We park at Ynyslas golf club, then precariously pick our way along the sea wall, looking out for interesting bits of driftwood and all the random things which have been washed up. This time there wasn't much in the way of flotsam, but the strange conveyor-belt feeling you get from walking along the narrow wooden wall made up for that. It quickly starts to feel weirdly mechanical, as though the wall were moving towards you rather than you actively moving along it, and you start to feel like you might have been hypnotised and any minute now you'll wake up and stumble out of the trance and fall into the pebbles.
We bumped into a couple of Borth-dwelling friends, and had a lovely pot of tea with Jonno, who showed us his latest project - a genuine gypsy caravan which has rotten away to leave nothing but a sturdy base and undercarriage decked in bright red and yellow paint. As a carpenter he'll have no problems renovating it, and when it's finished it'll live at the end of the garden: a beautiful and highly decorated get-away! Oh, the romance of it! :)
We ate hot pies in the sun (the chip shops we'd been getting excited about were all closed, unfortunately) then headed back up the beach, taking time to marvel at the petrified forest (only stumps remaining, but impressive ones).
No photos today, as I decided I wanted to experience it firsthand, rather than from behind a lens... But you can see a panoramic view of the beach here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
