I’ve sun on my back and wind in my hair as I walk along the beach at Covehithe, damp rain-dappled golden sand under my grateful bare feet.
I’m intrigued by intricate candlewax dribbles of sand washed down the yellow cliffs after the recent thundery rain – the first for about six weeks.
Despite the weeks of drought, there’s lush green vegetation at the cliff foot, flourishing and flowering in contrast to the sere fields on the clifftops. I marvel at the tenacity of plantlife in adversity. Marram grass runners extend sinisterly, metres across the sand, looking for a new roothold and nearly tripping me up.
Blue and grey flint pebbles are set flush in the blown sand like oversized jewels, a cool contrast to the golden sand and cliffs filling my vision as I walk on. Looking up, towering clouds sail above in a cerulean expanse of Suffolk sky.
By the Benacre reserve, little terns are wheeling elegantly over the sea and diving for fish, piping and chattering as they go; backed by the constant sound of the waves as the North Sea washes sand up the shore on a rising tide.
Small chalcedony pebbles smoothed by the sea into ovals of white, pink, gray and gold jingle coldly in my pocket despite the hot sun. Bliss!