When one lives inland, being by the sea is always extra special. The sea is therapeutic. It is vast and it has many moods. Its tides are like a metronome, beating out the rhythms of our lives. Inhaling or exhaling or pulsing like the hearts inside our chests. I love the sea.
I love the shoreline where birds swoop or seem to dance and also I love the pebbles, the shells, the flotsam and jetsam, the seaweed fronds, the fact that you can write things in the sand, the smell of the salty air, the wind in your hair, the changing light upon the surface of a bay, white waves gently lapping or thundering like mighty aquatic beasts. Yes, I love the sea.
|Words on a window in The Turner Contemporary at Margate|
The sea reminds us that this planet is mostly water. You could easily forget that when you live inland. 71% of our Earth's surface is water and 60% of any living human being is water. It is who we are.
And the sea has hidden depths where the creatures of the sea roam or cling to reefs. There are wrecks from long ago and caves and much of the life that dwells down there remains to be discovered. We send rocket ships into outer space when we still don't really know the seas that surround us. Perhaps it is best that way - allowing the sea to remain a domain of mystery and intrigue.
We are back from the north coast of Kent where The North Sea meets The Thames. And to accompany this blogpost I have included a few more pictures from the birthday weekend.
|Beach huts at Tankerton|
|Organist in the parish church, Faversham|
|At Reculver on the north coast of Kent|