We spent yesterday afternoon on the beach. A friend had gone away for the weekend and left her car with us, so we were looking for something to do that couldn’t be done by public transport. The chilly weather left us stumped. We didn’t want a long walk or a hill to climb. We didn’t really want to go exploring – just to be somewhere a little out of our ordinary. So we drove to the beach.
It felt like a good sabbathing thing to do.
The beach we chose is by a village where my granny used to live when I was little. This is the beach I will think about if you say sand castle. Somehow, my granny will always be there, spreading out a travelling rug on the sand and helping me drink juice from a carton. There used to be a donkey who lived in a field near the beach, and I remember feeding him chocolate. Of course, it was gone in an instant, but then, slowly and with a very long tongue, he proceeded to lick every reachable surface of his shaggy face in hopes of finding more.
But all those memories are summer, and yesterday wasn’t.
The sky was bright, but the wind was strong and cold. From the highway, we could see snow on the hills. We parked the car and layered up with mittens and scarves and hoods pulled up over hats. Plum kept pulling his mittens off again so that he could wave them around and yell Mitten! I tucked his once-again-mittened fingers into the sleeves of his coat and gave him his teddy to hug with his arms. Then we followed a sandy path down through the sand dunes which hid us from the wind. It was quiet there, though you knew the sea was close. A family walked towards us, a toddler almost asleep against his father’s shoulder, a grandfather grinning.
“Certainly blows the cobwebs away,” he said as we passed by.
Just what the doctor ordered.
The kids ran on ahead and then I saw them stop as they came out onto the beach and the wind hit them. Beangirl whooped and walked towards the bright waves. Blue threw out his arms to feel the wind, then he settled on a spot by the dunes where he could stomp out the shape of a castle with his rubber boots. Plum spotted the water and followed his sister and I followed, too, as the Spouse started to walk along the shore.
I don’t know how long we spent on the beach. Long enough for our faces to feel rough and red with the sharp wind. Long enough to find a few shells and decide that our fingers were too stiff for that kind of collecting. So instead, we watched dogs and their people explore the width of the beach, chasing sticks and balls and surprising crows who flew up into the air and caught the rising wind in their wings. Much higher above us, there were gulls flying, too, catching the afternoon sunlight which made them flash dazzling white against the sky.
Plum hugged his teddy bear with still-mittened hands and watched as three horses walked slowly past. Bean and Blue climbed up the sand dunes and toboganning down the far side in their duffel coats. They yelled out to me that this was worth the drive. And then climbed up again for another slide. 
Later, we walked back through the village as the sky was beginning to turn apricot. On a corner, there was a small cafe with a welcoming fireplace and ridiculously good german cakes. Cold fingers relaxed. Blue played with the camera. The Spouse and I drank coffee. Sunday afternoon.
Another week’s now started and I know more cobwebs will collect, but yesterday we felt the wind on our faces and that was enough.
