weekending :: the winter beach



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The murmur of the waves and the calling of the gulls. The sand beneath my feet and the wind tangling my hair. Salt on my lips and pebbles between my fingers: I’ve always been a beach girl, happiest beside the shore. I love the beach in the summertime, when we spend as much time as we can by the sea, but there’s something truly special about the beach in winter.

This weekend, a return to my childhood seaside haunts was the perfect tonic after weeks of chill grey days. Too cold to bathe in the sea, we bathed instead in the glorious light which had that magical quality found only at the intersection of sea and sky. The boys’ hair was aglow, the waves glittered and danced. The mirrored sand glassily reflected jagged breakwaters, bright beach huts and the leggy stilts of the pier.

The children dug for treasures in the sand; chased across the expanse of beach; waded in the shallows and built towers of pebbles. We inhaled the saline air and gazed at the sparkling sea. Returning home, we brought a little of the winter beach back with us, not just in remnants of sand or handfuls of shells, but in a sense of elemental wellness.

{Last year’s trip to the beach in winter.}

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