Kinghorn days

What struck me on the beach–and it struck me indeed, so that I staggered as at a blow–was that if the Eternal Principle had rested in that curved thorn I had carried about my neck across so many leagues, and if it now rested in the new thorn (perhaps the same thorn) I had only now put there, then it might rest in everything, in every thorn in every bush, in every drop of water in the sea.

Another slow start to the day. Then a short walk along the coast (never more than 5 minutes from the RNLI station) in glorious winter sunshine. It’s so warm, I’m down to my T-shirt.

We move Hamish’s stuff into the back bedroom and prep the front room for the decorator. Then soup for lunch, a quick trip to B&Q, and a relax on a harbour bench.

Back home again, I light the fire, eat a salad, and drift off to bed.