I’m drawn to the water.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m a water baby but put me beside a lake, a loch or even a puddle. I’m happy.
My favourite spot de jour is Kirkcaldy beach heralding back memories of my childhood with my Gran. Who would take my brother, cousins and myself for long walks along Seafield on a Saturday afternoon where we would all run along the beach, avoiding jelly fish and rocks as we scarpered in the sun and in the shadows of the Seafield Tower.
Recently, I sat on the step leading to the beach taking advantage of the almost Scottish sun, eating a concealed lunch from the seagulls and watching the high tide ten feet from me tease snapshots of the toffee coloured sand beneath and the almost white polished shells hidden within.
As I watched the tide, it became almost hypnotic. Some waves lapped into the steps gently, teasing and encouraging the water within to merge, join and form into a pattern working together. Other waves were violent, reacting and arguing until it reluctantly accepted the interloper’s presence.
Watching almost in a daydream it occurred to me this scene of nature echoes life’s changes.
Some changes are gentle encouraging you to move slightly to the left instead of right manoeuvring you a hair’s breadth distance away onto a new road and a new direction. Others are violent, burning down the foundations of a shaky tower, plunging you into the shock of freezing cold water and demanding your strength as you adjust.
Both experiences are valuable and always the foam of the water lulls, the tides of old and new merge and you rise to the top of the water, breathing in cold crisp air to see the sun and the horizon above as you tread easily on the tide.
It’s all about the ebb and flow.
So, if I could leave you with one parting wish I would like it to be this; embrace the waves and the experiences, just like nature, they are a blessing and will take you exactly where you are meant to be.