A busy afternoon came to a momentary halt as I glimpsed my bikini hanging in the bathroom, drying from its first seasonal use yesterday evening. The past weekend will probably go down in 2007's history as the only cloudless two-day stretch, complete with fantastically warm temperatures. It would have been inconceivable not to take a trip to the beach.
Many people bash the North Sea beaches. I've been known to jump on that bandwagon - brownish water, hardly any waves, occasional suspicious frothy stuff. But there's something magical about behind able to wade out, thigh deep, and stare into the horizon, the sun setting in full glory, and feel nothing but a gentle swell rising from below. Swimming in the sea always makes me feel like the tiniest, most insignificant being in the world, and yet at the same time incredibly privileged to be a part of it.
Even now, if I wriggle my toes I can still imagine the sensation of the sand between them. The sound of rolling waves stubbornly echoes in my mind as I listen to the rain hit the pavement outside. The weekend weather is over.