She took some photos, then headed back down the 494 steps to the beach. I saw her later buying a coffee as we entered the pretty waterside cafe, and then passed her again retracing her steps by the shore.
Meanwhile, we scampered back down the steps, pausing to catch our breath as we snapped the landscape; laughing as I instigated a futile game of tig. We talked, we pondered, we counted through our friends (old and new), excited about when we could bring them to this beautiful spot.
But what about her? Who shared the glorious scenery with this girl, the one with the small smile, the empty coffee cup, and the cosy cardi now draped over her shoulders? Who helped put it there?
Of course, maybe she enjoyed it more for the solitary stroll. Maybe she got to spend some much-needed "alone time", the rest of her life crowded with people and the furious art of being busy.
I didn't quite believe the excuse I found myself making for her, however. A few yards behind strolled what looked like an elderly mother and her daughter, hand in hand, both positively beaming. And over the course of the walk we'd passed proud grandparents, dog-walking chums, young lovers and valiant walking groups, all of whom seemed simply buoyed at being able to share the beauty with their companions. "Look at that!" they could hardly stop themselves exclaiming - such is the human desire to share the good and the wonderful with one's fellows on this earth.
So my message to myself (and to you, dear reader, if you're looking for one) is to live life in the plural. Yes, a moment of individual contemplation may be good for the soul, but to put yourself in such a situation that this self same soul cannot help but enlighten - and be enlightened by - others, well, that'll be even better.
And as for that girl: if she ever fancies strolling some more shores, I do hope she gets in touch.
No comments:
Post a Comment