Sea me

Last night I was too sore for stillness or movement, too bored for a book or TV, too restless for sleep and too tired to do anything about it... one of those evenings I long for company and I have to remember to be grateful I don't have it because what company would I be? I gave thanks for the unseasonable mildness, for the unusual quietness of the neighbours, for my vivid imagination taking me down to the sea. I love the sea at night. You'd think you wouldn't see it, but somehow you do...and it sounds different, especially when it's quiet though that's probably because often other things are.

I give thanks for remembering wild camping with Rachel by a beach last year, and the very scary noisy seal. The quick chilly dip with Mima with everyone else without a wetsuit shivering on the shore. The painted water in the Bay of Biscay and the whale blowing bubbles beside me.

I give thanks for remembering a sea related something I've wanted to do for years, and whenever I remember I still haven't I wonder 'How hard can that actually be?' but somehow it stays just hard enough not to get done. Ah, it's good to have things I want to do that I still could do though...

I give thanks for thus in my mind escaping the here and now, which is not very mindful I know, but when you mind the here and now a lot is quite a helpful thing to do. I give thanks for writing my thoughts down while they were fresh in my head...for thinking of a title for this post and remembering the first time I saw the film Tommy. For remembering though I often feel a remarkably pointless piece of humanity, I write things down sometimes and sometimes people like to read them so, you know, I try...

I give thanks for sleep eventually enveloping me...and for my detailed memory and imagination standing me in good stead through a trying afternoon...and what seems to be building up to a difficult evening for some people within earshot too. Hmm...what shall I think of next?