My in-laws have a lovely house right on the sea front in South Eastern England. When the tide is out, we can head over the bay and play in the sand and find all kinds of fun stuff. Usually it's seaweed or little crabs and the occasional mollusk. It's nice being out there with the salty air, running around getting the kids all sandy. Such a nice change to the hills and farms around us in France.
Unfortunately, this trip we've been witness to another side of the bay's character. That of angry sea and swell. For the last three days the winds have blown hard across the water and the seas have whipped frothy foam at the house leaving traces of salt on all of the windows. It's gotten to the point where we can't see out the front windows. The wind is rattling everything and it sounds like thunder as it gusts across the roof. We've hunkered down in the house drinking lots of tea and letting the kids stay in pajamas till noon. Camping at Grandma's, as it were.
I have to admit, though, that I really like seeing the sea like this. The shades of gray, blue, and white change with each gust and wave. It's as if the water is voicing it's opinion on things, getting stuff off it's chest, bellowing at the world. It's loud and alive out there. It's beautiful.
My only hope is that the sea stops complaining before we head back on the ferry. I'm not so sure I want to be out in that sea. I've never really been good at conflict!