The Watercolour Coast in the UK


The corn ears shivered against my palm and bare legs as we walked, pushing through the thick crops towards the horizon. I had seen over that ridge a hundred times, I had watched my dog’s tail twitching and disappearing amongst the corn over again and yet it never failed to fill me with joy and hope. I watched as Paddington bounded ahead of me and leapt upon an imaginary mouse as he snuffled and pushed his nose deep into the dry summer soil. A warm breeze took the hair from my face and filled my mind and heart with the scent of salted air and crashing waves. Just a few steps further and the view would be ours.

I strode onwards and laughed to myself at how far I had come, how much this moment always lifted me from the ordinary. I threw my head back and smiled as the sunshine beat down on me and Paddington leapt again at his imaginary prey, his thick tail flying and swerving as he landed heavily. How could I be anything but truly thankful for this moment, for the ability to walk across this headland towards the rich, blue ocean below? It was a moment of utter bliss and beauty.

My steps turned into a run, Paddington snapped at my heels as I ran free like a child over the prow of the hill and onto the well worn coastal path. The view stopped me in my stride with its constant changing scenery and colours that melted into one another like watercolour paints on a smooth, damp canvas. I had everything to be thankful for, everything to dream about and enjoy, as I watched the tiny dots of people walking along the beach below. The sand hugged the twisting shoreline; moulded by the current as the dark estuary water made its way out to sea. The wet sand at the tide line glistened delicately and clouds skittered quickly past and turned the beach into a mosaic of light and shadow.  Lives played out below us as I sat on the coarse grass and leant upon the way marker sign.

As I sat admiring the view and took in the world around me, the beauty of nature, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. So many small, inconsequential events happen to us all every single day and we worry and fret and purse our lips at it all. Yet the world around us goes on and spectacularly, beautifully so. No matter how dreadful one day seemed for me there was always that view and it always took my breath away. My footsteps walking me onwards, the golden sands and salty breeze reminded me there is always a reason to hold Hope’s hand, get out into nature for an adventure and smile.

As we walked down to the beach from our expansive view I took each step with strength in my heart for the future I dreamed up. I stumbled on the cracked earth steps as I painted the canvas in my mind. The path was marked with footprints of others who had taken their walks and explored Cornwall that summer just as I did. I wondered about those people who meandered past the golden corn and hoped they too lifted their heads and smiled at the endless possibilities of life.

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