I haven’t been down to my local beach since the official start of lockdown in March. It’s mainly because I might be doing everything I can to be as safe as I can, for myself and others, but the mass of holidaymakers on our beaches have come from far and wide and seemed determined to be on a holiday from everything, home, virus and rules.
Any establishment making polite requests about wearing masks to protect staff–keep to the distancing guidelines, exercise some patience–to people in swim wear and demanding service from us ‘money-grabbing’ locals, are met with a ‘but we’re on holiday, you don’t have much COVID down here so we’re perfectly safe…‘
So I was just looking over some of my beach shots from previous years. I had a liking for hopping over the rock formations–this is not an easy thing for a walking stick-using MS sufferer and is more of a gravity-defying tribute to the Ministry of Silly Walks sketch than hopping really–and looking for interesting formation compositions that the latest receding tides had left.
This one caught my eye, because it also looked like it was an eye, perhaps of a dragon hiding in the beach.
It is exceedingly draconian! I get wistful looking at shots I’ve taken from similarly daring rock-hopping days out in the high desert. But I also think “You really had a death wish, didn’t you!” I confess I’m mostly glad to leave my flirtations with the abyss behind me and peer into my precious canyons from a safe, level perch.
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Yep, I think I’d think twice if the possible drop from a badly chosen foot placement was a few hundred feet instead of about two or three.
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If I had a backyard like that, I’d be there every day. Yes, I’m jealous. 😉
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Waiting for the tourists to finally go home, then us locals can have it back.
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Gotcha.
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