Large silver waves over a high tide

22nd January 2024

We have wind and worries and wakefulness. It is worse in the west.

Storm Isha raged last night. East Anglia largely escaped its fury, sheltered by the hefty shoulders of the rest of the country. We had mostly noise and bent trees and puddles. There was an unexpected temperature change in the middle of the night that made people wake, braced for fever, but instead they felt warmer air.

On the beach, it was six degrees, quite a hike from last Friday when it was minus six with rigidly frozen shingle. The consequence of the prior part of the month and the catastrophic weather reports meant that me, Puck, the electrician, Rupert’s Mum and Rupert met on the beach without our swimming kit.

Utterly unprepared, we stood in the warm-ish air and looked at a stunning, gently rolling silver sea that would have been a pleasure to dip in. There was a strong pull to the north but nothing worse than we had swum in before, even in a bleak mid winter.

This morning’s water temperature was five and a half degrees, apparently, as low as anyone wants it to be, even if the above ground temperature is back in the positive. When we were admiring it, the tide was high, making the large silver waves slower and smoother.

There was quite a lot of. ‘we wish’ and, ‘what I think’ chat as we stared with longing at the handsome silver water. We talked about westerlies and beach temperature and cold when the familiar figure of the boatbuilder appears from over the shingle bank, swimming shorts on.

He adds gloves and swimming shoes and gets into the water without trouble, swimming for a while before getting out quickly and craftily between waves. He quietly reported a bit of a pull out and a but of a pull north but concludes, ‘lovely’.

When we’d watched him safely back on the beach, I walked along a little, meeting Rupert and Rupert’s Mum coming back. Do we regret not swimming? Probably. There’s a zing missing from Monday morning, although the morning sea breath and the beach beauty remind you how fortunate you are.

There is bittersweet. The Canadian has gone to Canada and our lawyer is on his way to the other side of the world. Their persistence would have got us all in, I know, and we need now to make sure that feeling a little sad and missing them doesn’t make us lag.

We are lucky here on the east east coast, it is a very beautiful morning with hometimes marked by hot drinks and hot showers when significant parts of the country are without the power to enjoy anything much at all.

My toes got wave wet taking the photo but for once are not frozen.