Today I did something I would never have done when I was younger. I walked into the sea, barefoot.
As a child. I was scared of the sea. I wouldn’t go in. I wouldn’t even go near. Looking back, I’m not entirely sure why.
But the sea isn’t so scary anymore. In fact, I have grown to love it, and even miss it. I spent my time at university very close to the sea, and visited it as often as I could.
The sea became my friend, always there for me. And when I left it for the forests of Hertfordshire, I missed it. I do love forests, in their own way. But it was like a piece of my soul was missing.
Today, I was beside the sea once again, at Nairn. On holiday to Inverness, we stopped by the seaside. I took my shoes and socks off, rolled up my leggings, and walked forward. The waves rippled in front of me, spray beckoning me as they danced on the shore. I crept forward, avoiding shells, until my feet sank into the sand.
I stood amongst the waves, letting the cool water wash over my feet. I stared out at the sea, amazed by its beauty.
The waves breathed in and out in front of me, and I became lost in the sound, as it entanced me. I closed my eyes, losing myself in this ancient world letting it consume me. The sea sang through my soul, making my heart smile, washing away my worries.
I opened my eyes, and I felt more calm and peaceful than I had in months. I remained standing there for a while, in my own little world, not wanting to leave even when my feet got cold.
I didn’t really want to leave. But my mum wanted to. The joy I felt faded a little, as I climbed back up the hill. We sat near the sea as we ate out lunch, as she rambled on about the end of the world or something.
I breathed in and out with the tide, watching the waves, her voice becoming white noise. Perhaps I could stay calm, deal with her, with the peace of the waves in my mind.
