Give me water

One profound notion I have come to realize being here, is that I miss water. That may sound quite laughable...especially to those of you that live here. It rains here pretty much most of the time or at least once a day it seems. We are here are on a large island , meaning it is quite moist most of the time. Not nice, tropical moist like Hawaii or New Zealand....no....wet, gray and most days.....damn cold. The funny thing is that a lot of the British films I have seen usually show the bright sunny days....but rarely are the characters without jackets of some sort. Reality in being here I have seen that on some of the coldest days....many remain scantily clad. Not always only teenage girls...although that is a good majority.

Anyway...off track once again.....i do miss water. My husband was ever-so-sweet once again to bring me to the Southwest coast last weekend. Battling many hours of traffic (another usual) just to get there. I find difficulty in being in some coastal cities/towns. Weston-Super-Mare was pretty much one of them. That odd sense of inbreeding afoot. Every other person walking near the beach...although few actually on sand...carrying a bag/box of chips or eating ice cream. Many around the lower part of the Pier...(the "true" end of the pier having burned up) wandering the tacky souvenir shops and arcades. The rest of the population across the road from the beach at one of the many pubs or cafes lining the roadway. We, fortunetly, not those people. We had a nice motel room with a view of the water...a large busload of Welsh elderly singing in the pub in the late hours. This after going further into town and having a nice Greek meal. Cool. I miss the home feeling of walking the beach. The smell of salt water and seaweed. The rocks and sand. The sunsets on the beach are like no others. The colors and the peacefulness of it all. One has to experience it to really know it. It's beyond description. Magical.

The particular beach we visited the Sunday before returning to the nauseum of the city, was scattered with what was mostly couples. I think we were the only people who did not have a dog with us. There were so many different types of dogs...it was fun to watch. I have discovered in England that the primary dogs of choice are West Highland and Jack Russell. No offense to those of you who have them...but PASS on both. That day...we saw all sorts from Labradors to Goldens.
I fancy myself as a definite cat person...but dogs have a certain way about them that is fascinating and enviable..to be in the moment...and to be in joy while in it. How we all need to do the same.

Every dog had to chase their object of choice...preferably into the water...after being thrown by the "owner". Stick or ball...no matter.....as long as it was being done...over and over and over......I even had the pleasure of having a little fella come over and drop his tennis ball at my feet. He wasn't partial....me or mom...no matter...."just throw it...pullleeaasseee!!!" I was all too happy to oblige. Made me feel a part of the beach group. It was as though he knew that and came over. "This lady really wants to throw a ball for one of us....I can't pass her by...I have to help." What a thoughtful little hound.

Growing up in the U.P., I always dreamed of getting away from there and seeing all the world...especially the cities. Now that I live in the city, my one BIG goal is to get away from it. Return to the water...the country....the woods. Thank goodness I have a wonderful husband who appreciates that as much as I do.