Druidic Adventures

Last night I couldn't sleep. At 4 o'clock I gave up trying, got up, got in my car and drove East slightly faster than the by-laws of the City of Kingston-upon-Hull permitted, racing the sun to the horizon. Now, I only have a 1990 Astra with a 1.4 litre engine and the sun's been doing this for about 5 billion years, so I didn't feel too defeated to come second in this little celestial sprint, but I was only a few minutes behind and still had a good view.





I managed to wish a good morning to the sun worshippers on the beach. I use that in the most literal sense possible - it is the summer solstice after all and I was quite intrigued to see what they were up to, writing symbols in the sand.

Everything is so crisp and sharp on the beach at that time. The tide's just gone out and so the sand is completely smooth and untouched, and yet every grain casts a shadow because the sun is still so low.





And when I saw only one set of foot prints, I turned and said "Lord..."