A morning walk beach walk, early spring.

 

My feet pound the footpath, and the wind off the ocean is brisk and cool. Few people walk along my street. Workmen hammer away, building, working, pushing on through early mornings and long days. Their radios play advertisements and dull forced conversations of morning DJ’s. I reach the Esplanade and cross to the walkway, which extends down the coast in both directions: disappearing south towards Marino and the headlands, glowing orange in the morning sun, and north to Glenelg with its iconic jetty and foreshore entertainment.

The sky is cloudless and bright blue. Ocean waves are white capped and boom rhythmically on the sand and rocks. A high tide. Warm sun-rays take the edge off the chill in the air and carry the promise of warmer, longer spring days reaching towards summer. I reach the walkway over the sand-dunes. Clomp, clomp, my feet speed along the wooden boards. People buzz and flit around me. Black lycra-covered, power-walking, pushing strollers, talking on invisible phones, chatting together: ‘You tell him … you tell Mark …’ I move past a young couple and know that the dramas with Mark will never be known to me. I’m pleased, however, that these two people support each other. I feel a oneness with these other people who, like me, have thrown themselves out into the world to exercise by the beach.

Reaching the al fresco cafe, I register that it’s almost deserted. On weekends, it’s crowded and people sit and stand and chat and catch-up with friends or family, as they wait for coffees on the footpath outside the shop window. Today it’s cool and windy and a weekday, so it’s a different place. The umbrellas are down, at the scattered white tables. I pause and face away from the cafe, leaning over a wooden railing as I look down across the beach and out towards the horizon. Wind whips my face and reddens my cheeks. I’m alive with the restless, rocky ocean pounding the rocks beneath me. The day waits for me, still. It’s only nine in the morning. This is a lovely pause from activities and distractions. I am here, in this moment, observing my life and life in general. Good.