I can see the sea outside my bedroom bay window, the best view in the house. Lately I’ve been frustrated that the cold weather prevents me from sea-bathing (although some do it even in winter, the show-offs).
Will I ever get tired of living by the sea? No, in short. The way the light plays on the water, how the sun sometimes bounces off and makes it look like crinkly silver foil, the way that sometimes a pale, cloudy sky contrasts with the brooding dark grey-blue of the sea and you can see the white crests of the waves. The sea can change colour minute to minute, hour to hour, depending on the sky above it – on a cloudy day, of which there are several, shafts of light descend to the water like angelic rays from Heaven, and sometimes when the sun sets the sky over the sea goes golden, and pink, and then a deep red.
The sunny days are, of course, nice as well. I find there are several different textures that a clear blue sky brings out of the sea. With the right light, the waves light up with dazzling sparkles that dance even after you close your eyes.
February gets me restless. When I was younger, it was always the month I would feel at my most crazy. Each year it gets significantly easier – January has, I believe, superseded February for most frustrating month – yet for such a short month, it drags.
It’s mostly the fact that winter has taken the pleasure and fun from the outdoors for about four months now, and as the days begin to lengthen I long to take leisurely strolls to the seaside again, like I did when I first moved here, and get ice cream from a stall, and sit on a bench as a cool sea breeze ruffles me on a warm day. What can I say, summer’s more my bag.
But now, all I can do is wrap up warm, hunch my shoulders and dash to and from the shops, or dispatch willing housemates to brave the icy winds on my behalf. And sit at the bay window in my bedroom, looking wistfully at the sea.
Sonya Blanck writings 