I must go down ...

I'm sure you're all sick of this blue sky malarkey, this hot blazing yellow thing beaming down on us every day just now? So tonight I give you the view, once again, from my bedroom window, just before midnight. It's calm and warm and altogether un-Scottish, though the bedroom is right now the coolest room in the house.

The reason for this is that this morning was really misty and grey till about eleven, meaning that we didn't have the sun blazing in on our sleeping faces and that by the time it was back it had moved round to the south of us, so the room's been shady all day. I didn't go out much till about 3pm, mainly because the NFH (see yesterday) was back with cement mixer and digging machine on full power, stinking us out and exacerbated by a newly-revealed capacity on the part of said neighbour for repetitive expletives in every second sentence. (I think he was being irritated by one of his long-suffering workmates/hired help/friends/whoever.) Mercifully they knocked off mid-afternoon; the bad news is they're coming back in the morning. Early.

After they'd gone and peace reigned, I was out with my book again, pretending I was a teenager on holiday once more. And again, about 4.30pm, my thoughts turned to the sea and off we went in search of a suitable beach from which to swim. We found a spot, where I've swum before, utterly deserted; the beach itself isn't glamorous but the fine sand that at high tide you have to trust to finding goes on and on well out of my depth and is perfect to get a decent swim. It felt colder than yesterday's sea, but I stayed in for some time and swam till my arms felt like cooked spaghetti. I dried briefly in the sun, then put my dress on over my wet cozzie and squished in my wet sandals out the Ardyne road just to complete the exercise. A heron stood disdainfully in the ripples at the edge of the beach, as if scorning the people who'd taken their car right along the road to where they wanted to sit/pitch a tent/light a fire/paddle-board. (There used to be a "no cars beyond this point" sign, but it seems to have gone.)

Just because the sun may soon desert us, I'm putting a blue shiny photo in extras. It's from the walking bit. 

Title is another pretentious literary reference.