As the first wave of the virus infection continues to subside, restrictions on our movement have been announced.
From the coming weekend we'll be allowed to move up to fifty kilometres from our home, and meet someone else in a park. Perhaps we are reading too much into it, or perhaps it's one of those perverse traits of human nature bubbling to the surface once again, but for now that recently discovered need among the community to "exercise" has evaporated, at least on our beach.
Of course they may have been supervising their kids struggling with online lessons, or they might have just had better things to do than to go out in weather which has taken a turn for the different, making conditions less pleasant in the great outdoors than it has been of late. It was so bad out there that that one of us even wore a light jumper round her waist "in case". Perhaps they were washing their dogs, or doing their hair, or stuck on hold making their claims with a Government agency.
Whatever the reason for this turn of events, we wandered smug in the knowledge that we were not such fair weather sailors, that we were there for the long haul, this was our turf and we were going to keep on doing what we do come hell or high water. It would take more than a slightly grey sky or a splash of bureaucracy to keep us away. It's all about self-discipline and determination and making time to do these things.
Had we known that his would be our last beach walk for some time too, for reasons equally various and valid as the accusations we were flinging at the absent throng, perhaps we might have cut them some slack.
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