To the Island

... or, coping with uncertainty

Crossing the channel is a spectator sport at Overy.
I went to Wells first thing to get some perlite to see if I can get some cuttings nicked from one of mum’s favourite shrubs, and which R loves, to root for her garden. It was pretty busy but I got what I needed from the wonderful Walsingham’s hardware shop which has absolutely everything. I drove back to Overy and parked on the beach as the tide was receding and then dithered as I wasn’t sure it was low enough to cross without making a brutta figura of myself. I put my costume on so it would look as if I intended to get wet. The channel and the sands change all the time. It used to be best to cross right up at the Boathouse, now its best to cross right at the other end but there’s always the chance of disappearing up to your waist.
It was fine and I went across chatting to a couple who were happy to follow my covid inflated wobbly white little legs. They set up their chairs that were slung over their backs and settled in on the other side whilst I set off across the cockle path. My 5, 10, 15 year old feet were tough and up to the task and I used to run across like the wind but the baked mud was hard on my soft soles today and, in spite of taking the precaution of covering up with a long sleeved shirt and raised collar, my feet are well baked now.
I crossed to the Island and went in search of the pyramidal orchids (extra) and then headed over to the other side for my swim (extra) and walked back along the shoreline. The sand in the dunes was too hot to stand on.
On my way back I got some samphire and called by Juliet https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2358669649899423830 for a catch up and an ice cream (both she and her husband had had covid but fortunately not needed to go to hospital).
Evening spent watering, transplanting lettuces and watching all the shenanigans of the bird life in the garden.