When I suggested we again pitch-up at shingle Street, I had no idea that it’d be 2 days to the year since we first went. Back then it was a detox after A levels, this time it was to mark M’s return from Nicaragua, Australia and New Zealand.
Though not quite on the scale of Birdling Flats, Shingle Street is an empty wild place where nature takes centre stage and modern life seems a bit puny. That night the stars shone brightly behind Mars and Venus.
Laid-up on this vast, pebbly beach, we spoke of the limitations of perception and cognition, the trickiness of time, life plans, reincarnation, spiritualism, taoism, hitchhiking, relationships and the joy of a well dressed halloumi salad.
A lot has happened in 363 days and this time next year M should’ve just finished his first year as an undergraduate. I hope we’ll return then, there’ll be more to talk about.