We sat for a few minutes on the sea wall before walking along the road and home. On a high tide the sea comes right over the wall and tonight it seemed to be sparkling in the sunlight. Gorgeous.
Today The Mister and I had the day off work which was lovely. Did some packing and then went to catch the boat at 6.30. Of course the boat was running late so we didn’t end up leaving until 7ish, getting in at 11pm and then we had a long drive to Port Talbot arriving at 3am.
I was completely and utterly knackered but apart from the Sat Nav taking up cross-country for the first hour we had a brilliantly straightforward drive.
Camping here we come!
This is taken from the Rousse Kiosk where they serve up fantastic freshly made sandwiches and cake. This is where my colleague Maggie and I sat and ate our lunch. Not a bad spot eh?
It would be easy to become blase about living on such a beautiful island, but having been away and returned I find my appreciation these days is deep and true. I love sitting and watching the sea and just looking at the glorious views that can be found everywhere.
Life is pretty good these days and I am grateful.
Today the in-laws have made their way home but The Mister was able to spend a final day which them. Unfortunately the weather was not amazing but I think they had a nice walk and my mother-in-law ate her gazillionth crab salad this week. She also managed to have a little paddle in the sea… I reckon it was chilly!
For the next few days The Mister and I will be attending Sark Folk Festival. So, daily pictures will be forthcoming when I return.
This photo was taken from Pleinmont looking towards Lihou Island which is an island only accessible on foot at low tide via a causeway. Apparently not long after this the fog rolled in and apparently it was quite eerie watching it roll in from the sea.
The weather has been so awful over the last week or two that it is wonderful to see some sunshine. I love the island at this time of year. As my Mum would say… “it’s glorious!”
Today has been a really high tide which means a weather warning was issued as the sea has a tendency to come right over the wall, bringing with it a variety of stones and other debris. I took a quick trip to Cobo before work with my camera to get a photo, although at one point I managed to get soaked by a wave that caught me unaware.
A very high tide also means a very low tide, which at this time of year means an Omering Tide. Ormers are a type of shell-fish that can only be gathered at a very low tide and there are strict rules about the size of ormers that are collected. I think they are rather revolting but Dad loves them and he was given a couple as a present the other day. The Mister and I were lying in bed when we heard a loud noise coming from the kitchen, it would seem that Dad was battering the poor ormers into submission before plunging them into the deep freeze. Poor little dead sea creatures.
On my way back from a meeting I stopped and took a couple of photos of the sea. This was taken at the far end of Grandes Roques, one of my favourite spots on the island. It is on a corner, and there is a castle and German bunkers, but more importantly there are often beautiful, impressive waves. I was surprised there weren’t better waves today, but the gorgeous redness of the Guernsey granite, against the grey, mizzley sky cheered me up a little.
“Dear Lord, today I thought of the words of Vincent Van Gogh; ‘It is true there is an ebb and flow, but the sea remains the sea.’ You are the sea. Although I experience many ups and downs in my emotions and often feel great shifts and changes in my inner life, you remain the same. Your sameness is not the sameness of a rock, but the sameness of a faithful lover. Out of your love I came to life; by your love I am sustained; and to your love I am always called back. There are days of sadness and days of joy; there are feelings of guilt and feelings of gratitude; there are moments of failure and moments of success; but all of them are embraced by your unwavering love.
My only temptation is to doubt in your love, to think of myself as beyond the reach of your love, the remove myself from the healing radiance of your love. To do these things is to move into the darkness of despair.
O Lord, sea of love and goodness, let me not fear too much the storms and winds of my daily life, and let me know that there is ebb and flow but that the sea remains the sea. Amen.”
Henri Nouwen – A Cry for Mercy