Turn, turn of the cycle, and we wake on colder mornings with condensation, cold feet and the necessity of tea. When the sky is clear the warmth comes later. The Autumnal Sun low in the south gives deep saturated colours. Walking through woods in the dappled light, our cold noses sharp to the damp fecundity underfoot. Pungent wafts of spores, and leaf rot mix with the cold clarity of the river.
We climb out of the woodland, oaks becoming stunted as we reach the roll of the moor and cliff. Sunshine and warmth, grasses, ozone and great vistas. The surf is good, and we rest on the path down to the haven watching one of this communities first surfers sliding through the afternoon hours as he is accustomed to,in the moment, wave after wave, year after year.
