I woke up to the sound of the high tide at four fifteen this morning, so I quickly stretched and walked up front in my furry bed socks. I left a small window in the front open, the water is right at the wall, about twenty meters away. There’s something quite ethereal about not being able to see anything out there, but to hear it.
Willow is already in her hammock but sitting up and looking out, her head darts around and she looks out. The rats that live under the sea wall come up at high tide so I wonder whether she’s spotted one.
I click the kettle on and the small light over the cooker to make tea, rummaging around in a cupboard for the biggest mug I own. Once I find it I chuck a tea bag in it and by the time I’ve done that the water is boiled. I go into a kind of mini-trance as I stir it.
Leaving it to stew, I shuffle over to my laptop and check the weather. It was raining overnight but it’s going to be dry today and a bit ‘nippy’. Yesterday, I designed a small flyer which I hope the site office and the local shop will display, so I’ll walk that over today.
Morning ‘thing’ happens in reverse again, bathroom thing and then I get dressed, I’m debating whether I even need a routine here but I think a routine ‘holds us together’ and makes for a healthy mind, or at least a basis for one.
I finish making my tea and grab a tea towel to dry off my seats on the deck. Then I arrange the towel on the floor, step on it and shuffle-walk around to dry the floor some before chucking the towel back inside the door. Arranging myself on the biggest seat, I wrap my hands around the mug and take a drink. There’s something about a great big mug of tea that just improves the world and makes me smile.
I stretch a bit and try and think a bit about my day, but the sound of the water is too distracting. I ponder about being a water sign; I wonder if those that aren’t can ignore the sound of the sea and what that might be like. Perhaps they have an affinity with some other thing, like air or earth. I certainly know people that are ‘air’. Some of my close family are ‘earth’ – solid, reliable and sometimes immovable.
The darkness is definitely lingering this morning. It’s about five thirty now and its still pitch dark. Usually I start to be able to make out a shape of something out there but not this morning. I finish my tea and curl up under a furry blanket with the sound of the waves lulling me down.
My last thought as I drop off into a nap, was an idea for my next book.