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| Grey end to this dark year Grey end to this dark year | |
| (35 minutes later) | |
| A drab December greyness. I scrunched eastwards along the shingle, heading towards Black Rock. Foamy salients threatened to swamp my boots. My little terrier Phoebe darted in and out of the wavelets to retrieve sticks. | A drab December greyness. I scrunched eastwards along the shingle, heading towards Black Rock. Foamy salients threatened to swamp my boots. My little terrier Phoebe darted in and out of the wavelets to retrieve sticks. |
| Here and there I paused to watch a raft of scoter (Melanitta nigra) offshore. Their dark shapes pulsed up and down on a smooth swell. | Here and there I paused to watch a raft of scoter (Melanitta nigra) offshore. Their dark shapes pulsed up and down on a smooth swell. |
| There was no horizon, no distinction in the overall grey tonality, no dividing line between sea and sky. The only variation, far to the south-west, was an opalescence where sunlight glimmered behind a thinning of cloud and was reflected in a nacreous sheen on the back of satin waves that hid the birds in their folds, only to reveal them once more like the slow flickering of an old film. | There was no horizon, no distinction in the overall grey tonality, no dividing line between sea and sky. The only variation, far to the south-west, was an opalescence where sunlight glimmered behind a thinning of cloud and was reflected in a nacreous sheen on the back of satin waves that hid the birds in their folds, only to reveal them once more like the slow flickering of an old film. |
| Offshore as far as the eye could see were other groups of scoter, scattered, innumerable, a huge flock. They dipped and dived, briefly took flight, their presence a marvellous otherness as waves like the world’s breath sighed in. | Offshore as far as the eye could see were other groups of scoter, scattered, innumerable, a huge flock. They dipped and dived, briefly took flight, their presence a marvellous otherness as waves like the world’s breath sighed in. |
| Watching the birds, my heartbeat attuned to the wave-rhythm. A stillness came upon me. In Simone Weil’s marvelling phrase, I was “annihilated by the plenitude of being”, and felt myself to be a part. | Watching the birds, my heartbeat attuned to the wave-rhythm. A stillness came upon me. In Simone Weil’s marvelling phrase, I was “annihilated by the plenitude of being”, and felt myself to be a part. |
| Phoebe rapped me on the shin with a stick she’d seized from the water to summon me back. I threw it for her. She bounded after, kicking up her heels in ecstasy, dancing in the surf. | Phoebe rapped me on the shin with a stick she’d seized from the water to summon me back. I threw it for her. She bounded after, kicking up her heels in ecstasy, dancing in the surf. |
| We climbed the headland with the dark caves beyond where monstrous creatures lurked in Robert Graves’s “Welsh Incident” (“I was coming to that...”). | We climbed the headland with the dark caves beyond where monstrous creatures lurked in Robert Graves’s “Welsh Incident” (“I was coming to that...”). |
| Starlings sped past beneath, heading for their roost in the reed-beds of Ystumllyn. A marsh harrier ghosted by, momentarily hushing their excited chatter. Our way back was by the slippery path behind the railway, in failing light. | Starlings sped past beneath, heading for their roost in the reed-beds of Ystumllyn. A marsh harrier ghosted by, momentarily hushing their excited chatter. Our way back was by the slippery path behind the railway, in failing light. |
| What a dark year this has been. I send my blessings to Brendan Cox and his children; lament the inability of those responsible for their grievous loss to see the role they have played in this, and be for once contrite. | What a dark year this has been. I send my blessings to Brendan Cox and his children; lament the inability of those responsible for their grievous loss to see the role they have played in this, and be for once contrite. |
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