For the first time in over a month both the car and we went more than 10km. It was lovely and sunny, so we went up to the coast. On a bright May Saturday afternoon, we felt the wind blow salt onto our faces and looked at the crystal-clear sea, under an azure blue sky. Port Blanc was empty, and the unused catamarans for hire lay chained to the harbour side. The wind whistled aeolian through their rigging.
Now that the travel restrictions have been relaxed about one in three of the car number plates, up at the coast, were from “out-of-towners” people not from Côtes D’Armor. Some had travelled far. Sea air is good in times of plague. About one in three of the properties still had their shutters down. All those lovely homes unused, those stunning views unwatched, the sunsets unappreciated.
And those shenanigans the other side of the channel, they carry on. I can see their faces now; they are intruding. All those cunning plans. It is sad.
Looks like the karmic boomerang is in flight.
All those other worlds, where people want me to enact their will, their wishes, to do their bidding.
It is so strange to pick up, if only in my imagination, all those machinations.
Oh well, Chicken Jalfrezi is next on my dance card…
Time to go and rattle some pans…