Swans at sunset

A moment to savour. Frantic escape from the house upon Adam’s arrival home after a fraught day with tempers frayed (‘We’ve found out tempers now mama, haven’t we?’ E asks when we cuddle and say soothing words of sorrow).

To the beach. Sigh…to the beach. Spotting the tourists hidden in their holiday homes, stickers declaring ‘Suffolk hideaway’. You too can escape the noise and monotony of life by renting a house by the beach for a week. Life could be worse.

I feel smug that I live a mere 7 minutes from the coast. Lucky, hey? ‘If only we lived by the beach, life would be much simpler’. If only they knew it doesn’t matter where you land, your mind in all its overthinking glory will come alone for the ride too.

I flop on the pebbles. Exhausted. Deep breathes. Let it all out. A cloudless blue sky and the final solar warmth of the day. I pick up two stones - one smooth, one with a knobbled edge, perfect for gripping, for feeling something real outside of myself. The waves crash. Families and friends gather, sucking up the last bit of summer, ready for back to School, autumn and a slow descent into another lifeless winter.

I try to capture the moment through my phone lens (until the battery dies). I walk back. The sea - the shingle - the beach grass - the sand - the boardwalk - the wooden houses. Each layer taking me further away from the water. Until I arrive at more water - the mere. Too late for boats now; only birds. Swans glide on the sunset, reclaiming their territory for the night. The moon hangs in the sky. All is still. All is quiet.

Peace. At last.