Dorset Holiday :: Blissful Days

 

When I compose my blog posts, they always start with the images. Always. My ideas for each post evolve directly from my photographs and I always upload all the pictures first before turning my mind to the writing. It takes quite a long time to upload photos to typepad, mainly because I am too lazy to resize them and make them smaller, so they are large, unwieldy files that have to make their way from my Attic computer through cyberspace to you.

Anyhow, this morning I wanted to tell you the story of one Blissful Day of my holiday last week, the day in my life that was Thursday 16th April. There are twentyone pictures in total which has taken me almost two hours to upload (I blog visit and email and make coffee and surf the net whilst doing this, so admittedly I get rather distracted along the way). And whilst I've been watching the images appear on screen, I've been able to re-live this particular day all over again, and it's been surprisingly emotional for me.

 

The morning started with a plan, and involved meeting family for coffee and cake at 10.30am at the Hive beach cafe (I chatted a little about this place on Wednesday). Even though the weather was quite grey and windy on this morning, the delicious coffee and cake, and time spent idling on the beach afterwards was delightful. The Little People are now at an age where they can quite happily amuse themselves for a while without adult participation, especially on a beach. There was lots of digging, stone throwing and collecting, drawing (we always take sketch pad and pens with us in the rucksack, and Little Lady spent a surprisingly looong time sat on the beach colouring a whole page in blue, which was her picture of the sea she said).

Whilst the LP were busy with their own pursuits, J and I were able to talk to each other. I don't know about you lot, but often I feel that in the bustle and humdrum of daily life at home, it becomes increasingly difficult as a couple to find time to sit and talk to each other. To talk about the way you are feeling about life, to make plans, to sort of review where you are at and where you see yourself headed if you like. Often J and I will do this on the occasions when we are out walking together, and last week, on this Thursday morning on the beach, I found I really enjoyed talking to my husband and had missed it. I remembered that I really, really like him a lot. That he is funny, thoughtful, honest and very hard working. That he has worked hard to provide us, our little family,  with a great deal of security and stability, and that he will continue to do so. And that I must never, ever take this for granted or forget how lucky I am to have him and this life of ours. And I tell him so.

 

We notice after an hour or two at the beach that the weather is brightening up considerably from it's grey start, and that blue sky is appearing. It's still windy mind you, so we make a spur of the moment plan and decide on a venue and an activity for the afternoon. We choose Eggardon Hill, and Kite flying. Eggardon hill is the site of an ancient iron-age hillfort, but I am not especially interested in the history of it. What I love about it is the height, the views, the space and the light. And the fact that it holds a great many memories for me, of my parents and grandparents (no longer with us) and the many happy childhood picnics and playtimes that have taken place here over the years. Oh, and that it is always very windy and therefore exceptionally good for kite flying up here.

 

The kite flying was a huge success. In my experience, kites can be quite unpredictable (we've had some disappointing "bad flyers" over the years) and this was the first outing for this little kite as it had been sitting under a little pile of dust in the cellar for quite some time. I came across it still unused and in it's packet when I was  busy gathering blankets and boots, balls and spades and packing up the car ready for the journey to Dorset. And now looking at these pictures and remembering the joy of this simple afternoon on the hilltops, I am so glad I did.

 

As a child I used to adore kites, and can so remember the feeling of exhilaration when ones kite actually does work and does lovely simple kitey things like going up and staying up and following you as you walk it along on it's string. Its magical! And the Little People really, really had a lot of fun with this kite. Doesn't it look stunning against the blue of the sky? Mmm mmm!

 

When we begin to tire of looking skywards, we stroll on further across the hilltop. It's hard to capture the true scale of Eggardon on camera :: the expanse of the sky and the surrounding panoramic views is awesome. One of the things I love most of all is to sit and watch the dark shadows move across the vast hillsides, the shadows made by the clouds themselves. Love that.

J and I spread a blanket and sit on top of this ancient ridge to drink hot tea from a flask while the LP do their thing. Their "thing" here involved chaotic frisby throwing, interspersed with running up and down the steep grassy slopes and some rather speedy roly-polying. It was exhausting watching them, how is that small children can find sooooo much energy in their little bodies?

 

This last photo above of the view across the valley was taken at 4pm just as we were preparing to head back. We had a table booked at a small local Thai restaurant at 6pm :: I remember thinking then that this day was shaping up to be truly fabulous, and yet I did not know at 4pm that the best was still to come....
 

The meal out was wonderful, quite a treat. The food was fantastic, the children very well behaved in such a small intimate restaurant. While us adults enjoyed spicy Thai curry, they happily tucked into prawn crackers and chicken satay sticks with a peanut dip (their first experience of Thai food, and was declared YuMmY-can-we-have-it-again).

We come out of the restaurant at 7.30pm or thereabouts, and step into an unexpectedly glorious early evening light. So instead of heading back to the house, we make a spontaneous decision to go for a walk instead, to extend the day so to speak.

 

I know exactly where I want to go :: a little known patch of land a few miles out of Bridport called Eype Down. Park the car in a  layby just off a quiet deserted country lane at the foot of the down and begin climbing. Up, up across the steep grassy slopes  which in a  few weeks time will be a glorious shade of bluebell blue. As we get near the brow of the down, we catch the setting sun streaming over the horizon, the quality of the light at this time of day is breathtaking.

 

Long shadows (that's mine above), and golden light, I am thrilled by the beauty of it all and feel fit to burst.

Eventually after some climbing we reach a point where the coast is visible. We see the flat top of high Golden Cap, the little village of Seatown nestled down underneath it, and the milky sea under the golden sky.

 

Words cannot describe how amazing all this makes me feel. This landscape and light, this freedom and exhileration of being out at this time of day when normally we would be indoors and therefore missing it all. Hope that doesn't sound too soppy? Or over dramatic, haha, yes maybe it does but what the heck!

The Little People are caught up in my excitement, they do NOT want to go back because they know it is really their bedtime, yet here they are in the midst of the countryside, running around and eating chocolate :: what fun!

 

So we make another spontaneous decision :: we decide not to go back and put pyjamas on just yet, but to walk back down the down (!) to the car and drive the mile or two to the sea. Just for the joy of it. Shall we? Yes, lets do it!

It is 8:20pm when we arrive at Eype beach and the fishermen are just setting up for the night. Another family with excited children is collecting driftwood to make a beach fire.

 

The colours in the sky are amazing, incredible and I am trying not to cry with the pleasure of it all, it seems so emotional for me somehow! I'm quite sure I'm not normal, I become  so affected by little things all the time it seems.

 

We settle down on the beach to watch the day draw to a close, and there is a chill in the air now. Luckily I have my faithful knitted blankets (remember them?) to keep me warm and I feel so happy, snug, content. I am so very in-the-moment, you know?

The sky slowly, slowy changes colour and begins to darken.

 

The Little People are beside themselves with excitement. I think as adults, we forget how rarely young children get to stay up beyond 8pm and venture outdoors to witness the close of day :: it's normally a time for being home, locking the door, drawing the curtains shut and preparing for bed. And so when it does happen, it holds a great deal of unexpected excitement.

 

As you can see, they are, quite simply, loving it.

 

Loving every minute. And quite rightly so.

As the temperature falls, J and Little Man (who are too manly to snuggle under knitted blankets it seems) retreat back to the car to warm up. Little Lady and I wrap ourselves up in the wooly, blankety warmth, snuggle down together on our backs and keep watch for the first stars to appear. We spot the first ones twinkling just before 9pm. And it seems to be a signal that it's time to end our day and head back.

As I recount this story to you today, I realise with a start that for me, this particular day in my life was as near to Perfect as I could ever ever hope for. Time spent with family in a beautiful and much-loved little corner of the world, enjoying the moments unfold from early morning through to night. It was a day I didn't want to end. It made me feel so profoundly Complete in a way that is incredibly hard to describe.

I loved the day because it was so simple. Because the pleasure came from love and laughter and relaxation, from good food and company, from the land and sea and the elements, from simple pleasures. Good coffee. Cake. The sounds of waves breaking on the shore. Of being high up and enjoying a view. Of Kite flying. Of sunsets, warm blankets and starry skies.

So simple to find happiness, it is right there to be had, in the small moments of each day. All you have to do is hold yourself in those moments, and cherish them.

xxxxxxxxxx

Comments

[Cathy]

That was so beautiful Lucy. Thank you for sharing it xx

[julie]

Thank you for sharing your vacation. I feel as if I've been to the beach, which is amazing because I'm completely landlocked here in Nebraska. Your stories are beautiful and your photos are breathtaking!

[noelle]

that was just lovely x x

[frances]

Exquisite!

[Brook]

What a lovely day. And how wonderful to see the opportunities as they sprang up and seize them with such joy and verve.

[Sue Krekorian]

What a perfect, precious day! You are kind to share it with us. They come along so rarely and I'm sure the memories will last forever.

[Jude]

You've certainly got your priorities right.

[valerie]

just wanted to say thank you

[simone]

Magical. Heaven is here on earth isn't it?

[laura]

I'm speechless and thankful after seeing your perfect day. We should all have a day like that now and then.
Laura

[The Antidote]

Love this post. I worry that I will forget days that I love, this is one of my reasons for blogging and I am sure yours too.
I particularly like how the light changes throughout these photos x

[wonderwoman]

i know just how you feel, i have to remind myself sometimes how lucky i am to be living in beautiful countryside cos sometimes with all life's rushing around one forgets! your post was lovely.

xxx

[Michelle Picken]

I loved your post! It brought a tear to my eye. Like you, I appreciate the beauty in nature and the little things in life. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Love,
Michelle

[Sarah]

its 10 am Friday here in the States.. I normally dont check on you until lunch time but something told me to go ahead and see what Joy Lucy has for us today.. WHAT A WONDERFUL break in my work day. I took my time reading it and savored every thought and photo.. THANK YOU! I believe I shall truly try to enjoy the days this weekend with my husband and not get mad at the little things..

[tamsyn.gregory@virgin.net]

Amazing writing and photographs, very moving and what a wondeful day, sometimes these days pass and we don't recognize them for what they are. You have captured it so well the beauty and the joy.
Tamsyn x

[The Quilted Librarian]

Oh, Lucy,
You have a real gift for getting to the core of what our lives should really revolt around. Thank you for sharing this through your blog. I look forward to each new post from you.
With great gratitude,
Dana

[The Quilted Librarian]

Please read "revolve" rather than "revolt".

[Zoe]

So lovely to share your day and such gorgeous photos and nice, happy thoughts. I love the photos from yesterday too. I've not been to Dorset but it's on my list. I hope you don't mind me asking here but any news of the little Garland? I emailed your hotmail account but I guess you didn't get it?

Thanks.

Zoe x

[Nina - Tabiboo]

Utterly breath taking! I was mesmerised from the start.

Thank you for sharing your 'near' perfect day.

Have a lovely weekend,

Nina x

[Kar]

What else is there to say? That is what life is about, plain and simple. The little things that warm your heart, stir your soul and leave a smile on your face indefinitely. I hope you have more of those moments dear Luce. I am doing my darndest to make sure I catch at least one moment each day that make me feel that way. Just like the other day when we went chasing the sunset. Beyond words.

I am grateful to have met you, one way or another, and to know that there is someone out there in this teeny world that truly appreciates the most simplistic moments in life such as I.

I wish you a grand day Luce!! :)

xxxxx

[Rachel]

A 'perfect day and evening,Thanks so much for sharing.It's so true that it's the simple thigs and the natural world that make us feel happy.My brother was ectatic at Easter because he'd built his own henhouse.He was so excited when he rang me to let me know his chickens had laid 2 eggs!It was like all his Chrismases and his Birthdays had come at once!Such pleasure from 2 little eggs.It was lovely to hear him so happy about it!
Rachel x

[Shannon]

Thank you for sharing beautiful pictures and thoughts. Reading this post sent my spirit soaring. Of course it is not possible for me to know exactly how you were feeling, but I have an inkling. Sometimes, during those priceless precious moments, I feel like the Grinch, whose heart "grew two sizes that day." So overflowing with joy that it is apt to leak out of your eyes a bit.
Not only are you blessed - you recognize it. Thanks again for a lovely post.

[chantal]

I spent a wonderful time reading your Post, really ! Thanks a lot for your words and photographs...
It makes me think of Happiness evoqued by Felix Leclerc, a canadian poet in a text that I will edit on my monday future Post (a special day for me !) I'm gonna try to translate the last sentence for you :
"Why do you make us think of Happiness ?
To make It stay with us as long as possible..."
Excuse me for my bad english, I am french, and school time is far away behind me.
Yet, I like your blog very much and I am so pleased to read you and see all your crocheted wonderful works when I come and visit it.
Well, take great care of you and your family, so long...

[Silvia]

Hi Lucy..I speak English not very well, I am afraid!So...Thank you for sharing your memoirs of the Easter Holidays. All images are unforgettable!! Silvia from Sardinia.

[susan]

Thank you Lucy. I've had a very rough week and this post was just what I needed. A very lovely balm for the soul.