On the perfect sand hearts (and illicit petrol use)

Uncharacteristically of me, at lunch the other day - after teaching and before scampering back to normal life, I snuck a faraway beach in. This use to be normal life, but not anymore. These days, random trips to beaches are very hampered by petrol prices and time (darn it having a decent job eh). But a few days ago, the perfect day turned up, as if by magic and the beach was calling. This was so needed, as autumn is but a glimpse of a tease here. So in a life utterly devoid of crunchy leaves and glorious autumn colours, late autumn sunshine does requires beaches to be stomped on - socks off and paddling too if necessary - so off we went. Was only fair.

 

So for a lovely change the very boring but necessary rules on 'only beaches on the way home or enroute to something productive' were abandoned and we headed off shell bucket and spade, wellys firmly on (from teaching, obviously), toes hoping for a bit of freedom and some sand.

 

Whilst I'm a devout fan of frugal living and trying to be as effective/efficient with my time/money/stuff as possible, some days the sun shines and decadent hedonism takes over. Petrol constraints firmly thrown to the wind (s) we used our supply illicitly - just don't tell my accountant (me) that the meeting that day when the petrol was higher than normal - was actually on the beach.

  So very quietly, off to the beach we went - and it was, as often, utterly deserted, utterly gorgeous. We wandered a while, taking in the peace and calm, investigating fish boxes. You know JUST in case they might want to come home.

And what a welcome relief the beach was, the right level of peace and sanctuary required right now. Life's busier than normal with work, students returning to uni and weddings to be organised.  And wide enough and peaceful enough, and empty enough to have space for a bit of beach art.

Not being blessed with an artistic bone in my body - I jumped about making sand hearts with my feet. You know, just to make sure I remembered how to do them. The dogs walked off in a most disapproving manner.

 

Wandering back we encountered something quite bizarre for Orkney - traffic lights. There are no fixed traffic lights on Orkney and so they're a bit of a novelty. If I ever come across them - I'm always amused at being told to wait on an almost certainly empty road. But wait I did. What a lovely spot for a traffic light I'm sure you'll agree?

All the more time to stare at the lovely view again, and contemplate life, before heading back to reality. Time to head home after a day's hard graft and a wee sneaky beach. Wedding's getting closer and lots to do. That day saw me collecting Mr F to be's wedding band outfit, for after the forest bit. Something you really don't want to see, although it does involve some rather fabulous bright yellow wellyboots* (and a fabulous cape to match).

 

*(His first actual pair, imagine getting to over 40 and not owning a pair of wellyboots and yet I'm still marrying him.)

 

Sometimes its good to give yourself a wee treat for an hour or so and feel the sand between your toes. You know, between the forthcoming gales.

 

Taking some time for yourself, whilst there's a million other things to do - often very worthwhile. Even if it involved illicit petrol and stolen time.