I was quaffing a glass of vino in Padstow harbour at lunchtime today with someone who claimed they now ‘got’ Cornwall. I struggle to understand anyone who couldn’t ‘get’ Cornwall to be honest, it’s one of the first and finest Celtic territories. It has struggled with the demise of mining and smuggling and the vagabonds of the past have been replaced with the oligarch of the new. The transient nature of it’s growing population makes it difficult to strike definition but you simply can’t escape the natural beauty and the heart of the folk therein.
My father’s side of the family relocated here and I have many happy memories from my early twenties fleeing the hectic mania of London and replacing it with the cool temperate views of the Atlantic and freshly caught crab and sole.
Last night I relived a dream often experienced when staying with my grandmother. I returned after a near on 15 year absence to rediscover the purity of a walk I’d experienced many years before. One I have done often since but not at the all-important time. That of the autumnal tides and full moon merging, increasing and decreasing. This is when there is enough light to walk the coastline and the tide is at its lowest. The beaches that run between Rock, St.Enedoc and Polzeath all become one and unite.
I’m both surprised and relieved many don’t share this experience. However if that happened it would cease to exist.
The birds come out and sing once everyone’s in bed. It’s a bit like a Hansel & Gretal fairytale come out after dark as rabbits dart and jump among the dunes and thistle by the score too.
As you walk and walk further along the endless beach in the softest, coolest light any weight of thought or carless distraction drops and falls away with every step. It’s another dimension and one worth the experience.
Such simple liberation.
Natural beyond belief.