'Grounded in a Micro-Cove' Ynys Môn
I’ve been hit by an awful virus over Christmas, which has led to arrhythmia attacks that together, have left me sleepless, wiped out and light-headed. I felt the need for fresh air on Boxing Day but even as I walked alone across the beach my feet were hardly touching the ground, I felt as though I was floating. I don’t know how I managed as my feet didn’t seem to make proper contact with the rock, but I scrambled across the reef to this calm pool where heavy stones also seemed to be floating.
There was no one around and all I could hear was the gentle lapping of waves on the rocks beyond, and my own feet on the shingle in this minuscule cove. There was a sombre feeling to the place and the rock was damp and greasy, and yet, I also relished the timelessness of the geology and the sea, the predictability of the tide and the pattern of night and day. I was reassured that no matter what happens to me, the planet just keeps on turning and that as a human, I’m no more special than anything else that lives and dies on earth.