Orange clouds shine down on a still silver sea, dogs bark and waves crash. The fire crackles and blazes, taking the chill out of the room. Shoes are taken off as the sun sinks and the TV is turned on. When it is turned off again the night is black and the stars shine.
It is time for bed. The sheets are cold but soon warm up. A loving kiss before the light is turned off. Breath turns slow and deep and dreams take over. The day has ended.
Morning brings new silence and an absence of wind, the house awakens with taps running, visible breath and woolly red socks. Breakfast smells and sleepy talk linger on as boots take the road to the sea, slowly. Gloved hands held loosely. Smiles and simple sentences follow the road down to crashing waves and boulders. Sheep stare until startled, then eat seaweed off rocks. It is time for silence; looking out at an island, smelling the waves, the foam. A seal pops up its head and is gone. Otters live here too. Boots on rock, jumping, eyes on rock pool’s colours; pinks and greens and reds. This is another world. Time moves with the swell. It’s lunchtime.
Boots are left at the door. The fire is lit. The turf is nice and black.
