....is hard isn't it?
If I want to go for a swim, I have to brave the scummy, over-chlorinated local pools full of screaming toddlers and people who walk backwards into you. Not at all like swimming in the crystal-clear water off Jura or Iona, where you have a complete bay to yourself and the fish dart out of your way and the soft sand squishes up between your toes. Oh for the long, white beaches with rounded lumps of granite and marram grass framing them.
No more walks through ancient, enchanted woods. No more red deer melting into the shadows. No more taking drinking water from the spring behind the moss covered rocks, or sitting for ages just watching the evening light changing over the mountains.
Ho hum..............
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2 comments:
Oh my goodness, that sounds glorious...
It was, it was.
Sigh.
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