My last stay in my hometown of Torquay was in the Autumn of 2007. The days were mainly dry and pleasant and I would awake to a perfect sunrise. Standing at the window of the apartment where we stay, I would hold my breathe as the sun turned the bay to molten gold and the horizon clouds appeared as imaginary mountains as I looked toward France.
On this misty-eyed morning I was up and out early just before the rain came. Rubbing away sleep, tossing on a rain jacket (whoever would travel to England without one!) and walking shoes, I headed through the archway to the road along the beach. There were a few early mornings when a sudden squall would head in from the English Channel and swirl briskly around the bay.
It came so fast, tossing the spray over the seawall. Blowing flapping seagulls and cormorants off course. Throwing bunches of slimy seaweed on the pathway.
The beach huts, already battened down for the Winter, rattled in the wind. Next to them the little cafe which still opened daily for breakfast, stacked up the outdoor chairs and tables. Nobody would eat outside until later. Across the bay the shoreline was just visible ~ it is where my childhood home still stands.
I hurried along the road as the wind picked up, shielding my camera from the sea spray, and ducked into the rather ornate beach shelter ~ these Grecian style columns have stood here since I was a child. As quick as it came, the storm left. The sun came out beyond Thatcher Rock and I proceeded to the headland and climbed higher for the beautiful view.
The sun brought color back to the sandstone cliffs. The waters of the bay calmed and turned to blue. Soon the small towns, and beyond them the countryside, could be seen more clearly through somewhat misty eyes. There definitely is no place like one's true home.******
AND THE WINNER IS..................????????
Many thanks to all who entered my 500th post giveaway.
I am always thrilled to hear from each of you. I know it's hard to comment constantly. When one first starts a blog you struggle to 'be known' because you feel someone out there needs to read what you write, look at your photos, share your interests etc. It doesn't take long before many wonderful friends are leaving comments and you try hard to reciprocate. Blogging does take time if you enjoy posting several times a week. 500 posts have taken me 2 years but it feels much longer. In that time I have met so many great people. Some I will never meet in person, others I've already met and it's always been fun.
So in celebration of all those hours spent on those 500 posts........despite my dh's constant "Mary, it's 2 AM shouldn't you be in bed".
...........I am happy to name the winner of my British goodies...........
NANCY at Knitting Paths of Life
Congratulations dear Nancy. I'll be packing your parcel and sending it North very soon.
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