Chicki sees the sea
It isn’t often that Chicki sees the sea. Though she regularly visits the river and is thoroughly familiar with the sight of large bodies of water, she must surely notice the difference when she’s taken to the ocean beaches.
The smells, the breeze, the roar of the sea: I wonder what she makes of them?
Another strand of her life of adventure….
Looking Out to Sea
Looking out to sea…. What a lovely way to spend some time.
This is a view from Ramsgate Beach in Sydney, Australia.
Does it seem vaguely familiar?
To regular visitors of this blog, it may well ring a bell, for it’s similar (but not identical0 to the cover image for my third title, ‘The Essence of Life and Love in Australia’.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but for my money, nothing can match the real-life experience of being there, feeling the refreshing breeze, smelling the salt, hearing the mesmerising sounds of moving water, savouring the sun.
Nonetheless, a picture ( and a few words) is all I can offer.
Do you find it challenging, reading the perils of the ocean?
I could see the white caps bobbing, the waves gently crashing against the shore. But the day was warm and sunny, and the water tempting, so in I ventured.
I’m a pretty strong swimmer for a woman of a certain age, and had little difficulty cruising about six hundred metres. By then, I’d had enough: I was hungry, past my lunch-time. There was only one thing left, and that was to get out.
Aware of the push and pull of the salt water, I headed for the net. But, horror of horrors, the strength of the waves seemed ever more powerful, more concentrated and intense. What had seemed to be the easy way out had become near impossible.
Fact is, I simply couldn’t walk out. Incredible though it seems, the waves were just too powerful to allow me to do so.
My undignified end was to allow myself to be washed ashore, like a piece of flotsam or jetsam.
A reality check, at least!