Last time to go to the beach.
Six months traveling, finding what life can be like as a ‘retired person’.
Learning to be just me, not just a headteacher.
This must be one of the best ‘last’ days anyone could have.
We took a picnic to Greenfield beach. It’s just to the side of Hyams Beach, at Jervis Bay. A lovely deep beach, surrounded by trees, not a house in sight, a small stream running by its side. The sand is brilliant white and fine as Hyams. Fine sand that is so easily brushed from the skin, and, when dry, it squeaks as you walk along it. There is very little seaweed in the water, next to none on the beach itself. We head to the clear water, blue, bright and incredibly calm. The rhythmic sound of filigree white waves against white sand. It’s beautiful!
Someone has made a structure of branches stuck in the sand: a shelter of dry leaves creates sufficient shade to allow us to spend hours in the heat.
Without sun glasses it is nearly impossible to see along the beach. It’s so bright! It’s a paradise or an advert. The water is pristine, when someone swims through a wave you can see right through the water before they emerge.
It’s impossible to resist swimming in the clear, cool water. Unlike most seas, the water does not cloy your skin; it feels fresh.
Over and over again we talk around how lucky we are, how much we have grown through our travels, how much we have enjoyed each others company. Well, that’s good! We will be spending a lot more time together!
I lie on the beach, soaking up the warmth and wonder…why am I going home? Could I do this every day? Possibly. But friends and family…I need them too.
And variety. I am notorious for becoming bored quickly!
Eventually, the sun sets behind the trees and shadows cover the beach. Damn these tropical days when night comes at 6 pm, I’ll never get used to that. As we stroll back to the car, I turn for one last look, searing the image into my mind to remember on cold, sad days.