As a child we always went on holiday for two weeks in June to Torcross in Devon. I had wanted to go back for years but it took a long time to find a reason, or two. So I rented a cottage not far from the sea, and leaving my small cottage, not far from the sea, felt a little foolish. Maybe I should have gone on holiday to the city. But this was a trip back in time in a way.
Walking on the sea wall at Torcross, shingle beach steep, sea lazy, sky clear and blue. Along the lea side clouds of midges swarmed like smoke. The path across the cliffs was thick with broad leaved trees, foxgloves towering above head height. Hallsands still slept eerie between the sea and the cliff walls, ruined and empty of life. Clouds built on a hot summer day, lightening out at sea and then the wind came, followed by rain and hail the lay in white drifts everywhere. Next day sat by the sea watching the white clouds form and disperse and pattern the sky, doing nothing. Later sat and watched the ducks and the cloud soft white swans, long necked and bright bead-eyed.
On Tuesday we ate cream tea at the Two Bridges, in elegant luxury and walked in Wildman's Woods while a woman in a dress the colour of horned poppies danced on a tor in the wind. In Dartmouth elegant houses and a slow walk to the castle in the evening heat. Castle cove was a Mediterranean blue and so calm.
Wednesday a slow and lazy day and a walk around Start Point where the air was so lear and bright it looked like thunder.
Thursday, west from Start Point. Down Farm , where the beautiful pasture led down to the cliffs and shelves of rock reached out into the sea. So many flowers and butterflies, purple vetch, campion both sea and pink, white vetch and clover, honeysuckle and artichokes and bunches of sweetpeas for sale in a vase.