Just as the tide ebbs and flows, so too does the collection of stones on the seashore change. Oftentimes, the voice of the stones is drowned out by the sound of the sea but high up on the shoreline they call out to those who seek inspiration.
Two stones spoke to me yesterday as I walked along Annestown Beach. They only needed to say two words to draw me in and tickle my imagination.
It’s our 24th Wedding Anniversary today and I decided to dig out the wedding photos to take a peep at them.
Twenty-four years is a long time but I thought I remembered the day as vividly as if it were today. I’d have said that I wasn’t a wedding person at all but am shocked at the extent to which I was smiling through the it all ~ even the ceremony!
The other thing that came flooding back to me as I looked at the photos was the church music. I’d never heard of Panis Angelicus until a few weeks before the wedding when I was asked what hymns I wanted. I hadn’t a notion but a musical friend suggested Panis Angelicus, among other gems, and when I heard it for the first time on 21st September, 1991, in the little church in Carbally, I was absolutely stunned by its beauty.
So twenty-four years on, I decided it was time to make up for what I felt was a lost swim on our wedding day. I’d had curls put into my extremely straight hair for the occasion and everyone warned me that a swim would wash them out. I felt absolutely deprived as I see a swim as being an essential, especially on ‘special days’ ~ in other words, everyday.
Annestown Beach was divine this morning and felt exactly the right place to be.
Hubby, as I mentioned here before, isn’t into ‘special days,’ like birthdays and anniversaries so I’m wondering how he’ll react when I present him with the wedding album on a plate with his supper.
It’s almost two weeks now since I embarked on my quest to get back to running. As you may recall, I’ve designated my approach as Phunning ~ a combination of gentle running and taking a few photographs along the way.
I’m delighted to report that I’ve now had six outings to The Anne Valley Trail in Dunhill and that it seems to be getting shorter by the day.
Yesterday was one of those stressful days with a few fork-in-the-road kind of appointments so I tore out of the house early this morning to find the calm that phunning is now bringing with each stride.
There was a lovely soft light and I found myself doing a lot more running than walking. Among the biggest changes since that first day is that I’ve now stopped counting paces and am letting my body dictate when it wants to stop for for a breather.
I’ve also reached a point where I’m less likely to stop running just because I see people coming towards me. It’s nice, though, to stop and have a little chat with fellow travellers, like this friendly man this morning:
Dunhill Castle overlooks the Anne Valley Trail and I can’t seem to resist going up there to soak in the history, scenery and tranquility:
It’s fascinating to think that the sea used to come in as far as the Castle and this morning there was a real sense of sea as the wind was coming from that direction and I could hear the waves back the mile and a half or so:
Within the ruins of the Castle itself, the light danced on the old, thick walls:
This new exercise regime requires plenty of healthy eating:
There’s no doubt that blogging about Phunning is adding greatly to the experience and I got a great giggle from Roy’s reference to ‘Phogging’ in his latest post and Robin’s comment about ‘Phalking’ in response to my first post on this new madness.
I hope, dear Readers, that you’ll come up with some more thought-provoking words to keep me motivated over the coming weeks!
I went for a late night swim last night in one of my very favourite beaches here in Co. Waterford.
The fact that it was moving towards Dad’s birthday today was on my mind ~ he was born in 1919 and died in 2010.
Imagine my surprise when I got to the swimming spot and saw that someone had written the message, that was subconsciously swirling around in my head, high up on the rocks.
I’m certainly not a fan of writing on rock faces but I must admit that this message was one which seemed to shout out what I and no doubt many other people whose beloved fathers have died, or left for some reason, feel.
The swim was divine and later I was lured by the gorgeous light out along the coast.
Lots and lots of happy memories of times spent with Dad along this Co. Waterford coastline and, of course, my thoughts wandered to Co. Clare which was his native heath ~ a place that was his absolute heaven.