The fresh crisp morning air assails my senses as I quietly close the kitchen door behind me. The gravel crunches under my feet, yet all is silent.
I turn the corner of the street and the south-west wind rushes across my face.
I hear the sea before I see the sea, for all is still dark at this early hour.
The smell of wet briny beach is strong as I descend the steps to the beachside path and turn fully into the wind.
Striding now, arms swinging, legs stepping out, heart rate increasing, eyes watering, eyesight adjusting, vision expanding, I am off and in rhythm.
I notice the waves heaping up in the tidal stream – wind over tide… a roughcast texture of sparkly icing peaks dancing on an inky blue cake.
And the lights: white, flashing their numerical codes marking points of danger; red and green marking safe passage into safe harbour.
Wet wind whining,
Autumn gale batters the beach;
I am nothing.
Turning back, the wind now behind me, I see historic forts in the distance and ships at anchor awaiting the change of tide – or perhaps, a change in market prices?
And I am back at the steps. I find my sheltered place known only to dogs and their owners, and I begin Qi Gong.
Bank of undergrowth,
A lone honeysuckle vine;
Its fragrance enough.
Breathing deeply and stretching silently, my body awakens to the day. Reaching up I am aware of the sky, and the clouds, and the stars and the heavens and the universe and the void….
Bending, stretching, breathing, calming, I settle and melt into Tai Chi: two sections, 20 mins. Silence, breath, yin, yang and Wu Chi to end.
Striding out, I am back in my garden and it is time to sit.
Warming sun rising,
All is raised by one degree.
Another minute becomes.
