The Daily Novel

It is our first day in Roseland. We are sitting drinking tea at the New Inn overlooking Carne Bay. The evening sun is bright but no longer scorching. Most people are gathering their belongings and walking slowly up the hill. Unhurriedly. From time to time they pause, turn around and look back at the sea. Reluctant to leave it.

My wife and I are sitting side by side looking out at the sea and the cliffs. Suddenly I start laughing quietly but convulsively. A tear starts to trickle down my cheek. Janet enquires why I am laughing? I tell her that it is the blog I have just finished writing in my head. I explain that I cannot tell her about it because I am afraid I would then forget it and it would be lost forever.

She feels frustrated by this. So I enlist her help in finding words to describe the noise of the waves we are both enjoying so much.

The waves are lazily splashing over the heads of the few remaining swimmers in the sea. The sound they make as they begin their slow contented retreat is difficult to describe but there is no need. You have all heard it. And you all know that the slow movement of this oceanic symphony is one of the most soothing sounds nature produces. Nothing better for calming a troubled mind. Nothing better to induce feelings of utter contentedness.

This is not the blog that made me laugh. It is an entirely different one. And it is the first time in the forty-one years we have known each other that we have collaborated in writing an article.