A spot of rest. That was delightful.

Beltane is all about fire and flowers. Burning away the old. Dancing around poles. Putting the virgin in the wicker man. Making daisy chains.

We wandered down to Beach Box Sauna. Lou has been volunteering and had made enough credit for both of us to book forty five minutes in the great big new horse box sauna there. It has a huge window looking over the stones of the beach. There must have been twelve of us in there and it was HOT.

There’s always one person talking loudly about their business. This one sells “high end” clothing. We got the blow by blow on supply and demand, before the topic inevitably shifted to the menopause. “This is coffee house talk,” Lou observes. There are only three men in this horse box. I’m pretty used to the subject having had mostly female friends for a long time until recently.

I can filter out the garbage, and it was HOT so I was in heaven. She was very adamant that you should LIFT. I think she meant weights. My mind went wandering.

Honestly I’m better at thinking when I’m hot. I had two good ideas in that sauna and wrote them both down when I left. It’s why pretty much all the revolution happen in Spring. It’s easier to think and easier to leave the house.

After about twenty minutes in there I was a lobster and Lou and I pulled out and made the long stoney walk down to the tide. Big swells, so the easiest way to ensure a quick plunge was to wait until the big wave pulled back and then lie in front of the next one. I’m less inclined to fearlessly dive since I shaved off the front of my face in Uruguay. That did the trick and soon I was swearing loudly and aiming to get myself back into the hot place. We did so.

It’s a good discipline, the hot cold hot thing. I feel calmer and warmer for it. The good feeling carried me all the way back to London and now here I am in a hot bath and getting ready for three weeks of mayhem with no more days off. I’ll snatch my moments when I can, and remember these calm beachy days. Much like this 25 year old seal who is mostly basking at the moment before stocking up on local fish and busting it back to the big cold sea.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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