Egypt4u

I suppose one of the downsides or maybe benefits of long solitary walks is introspection, wide open spaces free the mind to wander. I often jot down my thoughts and sometimes post them on here, I held back on this one because it is quite melancholy and a little sad, but anyway, here it is:

Each day I took Annie onto the beach, she loves the water, but only to paddle. The beach between Talybont and the headland that protects Barmouth harbour is long and sandy and a great place for dogs to run free. The tide was out and we walked along the strand line the firm wet sand making easy going. Annie dashed in and out of the small pools surrounding the breakwater posts that had been driven deep into the sand aeons ago by unseen hands in an effort to protect the sea wall from erosion, small shallow pools of warm water like ballerina skirts surrounded each post as they stood solitary sentinels on the wide open beach, the perfect place for a little dog to paddle. Annie grew more adventurous with her new found freedom and scampered over the sand towards the sea occasionally turning to see that I was following her. She grew more wary as we approached the shallow receding waves, small arcs of water edged with dirty yellowed foam ran in towards us only to retreated again as we approached. Annie threw me a look of uncertainty, this ocean was far too big for a little dog to comprehend, so I slipped out of my tattered old trainers and headed for the water with her. Emboldened by this she hurried into the water oblivious to the gasps and sharp intakes of breath from me as the cold waters washed over my feet, flecks of course sand broken shell and foam searched between my toes and then sank back again to suck the water from beneath my feet leaving deep imprints where I had stood.

We walked for miles and then I remembered the ball I had in my tote bag, it was her favourite. I threw it hard against the packed sand and it bounced high and Annie chased it with that Terrier determination until she had it in her grasp. Eventually she tired of that little game and just abandoned the last thrown ball instead of bringing it back again, I always seem to fall for that particular trick and have to go myself to retrieve it. The sun was getting quite low and it was time to return the way we had come, it was then that I noticed the footprints. The tide was turning and small shallow waves were making inroads back towards the shore, each lap of the waves was getting closer to our tracks, one set of footprints was a generous size nine and the other a perfectly paced set of four little prints shadowing mine in the damp sand. A long shadow leaned towards the shore and my mind slipped sideways in time and I recalled another smaller set of footprints that once mirrored mine and another shadow that would blend with my own as if they were part of the same entity, which of course they always were.

I shook myself from my reverie and using a stick I wrote Annie’s name in the sand and she danced excitingly around it, “Where shall we go tomorrow?” I asked as the tide washed over her name and so wiped the slate clean again as if to say “those are old memories, tomorrow you will make new ones” and of course we will when we head over to Llanberis, but that is another adventure.

Lovely Horus, I may try and paint some your photos. I think the pictures of Annie are priceless.

Feel free to do so MD, just a pity that they are not really sharp images, as for pictures of Annie, well as you may imagine I have loads and there are very few that she is not in them somewhere I have to be selective in not uploading too many as you will all become bored with them.

Not only a country boy then Horus but also a romantic author

Lovely little story and once again good pictures to support your text.

And your phrase "Small shallow pools of warm water like ballerina skirts surrounded each post" Not only do I know exactly what you are referring to but how poetic you put it

Horus wrote:Feel free to do so MD, just a pity that they are not really sharp images, as for pictures of Annie, well as you may imagine I have loads and there are very few that she is not in them somewhere I have to be selective in not uploading too many as you will all become bored with them.

Never! I have a special attachment to Westies as I used to share my bed and board with an old girl called Spangle who belonged to the Quarantine station manager and was fed but otherwise neglected by her owner in my view. Every Westie is different but I love them all even though I was bitten across the face by a known to be aggressive little chap that I refused to muzzle while I trimmed him. He only bruised me, no problem he was just warning me.

Thank you Grandad, nice to know that you enjoyed reading the post

MD, my Annie would never bite, she is very gentle and loves attention. She is of course only part Westie on her mums side and Border terrier on her fathers, I say “her fathers” because as everyone knows, I am her real daddy.

Nice narration to go with great photos, Horus! Its surprising how sometimes when we visit old haunts, how the past accompanies us. It's memories like this that make us what we are.

Lovely story H and lovely photos. That is a gorgeous looking beach that just cries out to be walked on too!

Oh Horus, you have me in tears...........memories & beautifully written

Thank you Kiya