Here we are,
the sea pilgrims.
Not many of us tonight.
A damp evening,
dark before its time.
Thunder rumbles in the distance,
water mirrors grey
and turns it into silver,
alchemy before our eyes.
An infinite supply of treasure
for a sea pilgrim.
We leave the shore,
the light darkens,
but inside us the sea shines silver,
and fills our hearts with light.
The clouds dispersed to reveal the estuary
domed with blue.
A cold north wind blowing
but in the shelter of a hedge
the sun felt warm, springlike
and the first frogspawn in a ditch.
The rising, full moon high tide paused
at the outer edge of the saltmarshes
where the birds gathered;
curlew, oystercatcher, redshank.
Then the sea quietly,
relentlessly, marched on over the marshes
scattering birds, forming islands of green
that gradually disappeared underwater.
A stream of sea pushed in past our feet
to the railway embankment
signalling the time to leave
this inbetween place
to the sea and sky
and the birds.
Weather and circumstance have conspired recently to keep my walks short
but today I was out for hours.
And now I am weary, that lovely tiredness of the body;
heavy limbs and aching muscles
thankful for a day outside
in the sun and frost.
Mind relaxed, soul nourished
by the long views of the fells and the sea,
clear blue skies and the orange glow of bracken.
Lungs full of fresh air,
I’ll sleep well tonight.