Magpie

I fear that the magpie community is trying to tell me something.

They only ever appear to me as individuals, never in pairs or more. I don’t think the rhyme holds water though, as I feel quite content at present (the anxiety remains of course and instead of just enjoying contentment, the worry persists about it going away).

Regardless, the lone magpies seemed to be lining my route this morning as I set off for St Bees beach on the West Cumbrian coast.

With the latest Ludovico Einaudi album playing as various beautiful sights the fields and coastline whipped past, it was impossible not to be moved by the juxtaposition of the stark wintry beauty and the sounds of music openly dedicated to the theme of summer.

The beach was thronged with dog walkers, dogs and their owner’s shouts and whistles, so I made certain to head in the opposite direction to them and made my back down the sands taking some photos and breathing in as much of the fresh sea air as possible.

Taking a Forrest Gumpian approach to my sense of direction, when I reached the end, I just went back the other way. There were some big rocks at the foot of the cliff that needed exploring, so I made my way over them. It was a bit slippery in places, but I made my through and found that a number of them had had names carved into them once upon a time. Apparently Jane Gaul (?) had the hots for G Graham back on 28th May 1958 (extra). I wonder if they’re still together….?

Feeling that the rocks were getting dicier by the minute, I gingerly made my way back to the beach and then headed up the easy to negotiate cliff path, which was forgiving on my still-aching thighs.

It was up there that I found this view (extra) and also this bench. Looking down upon the magpie population of West Coast Cumbria, I calmly set up my “proper” camera and posed this one to see their “one for sorrow” nonsense and raise it with the addition of a bench*.


*I really wanted end the blip here, but the fact is that having enjoyed the drive and walk, I headed home and was shortly joined thereafter by Ms Simmo for a Chinese takeaway tea and a natter in front of the fire. When she left, I was then on the verge of going full pyjamas and dressing gown, but remembered that the theatre lot were having a post-Panto party, so I headed down there for a couple of hours, and it was really lovely - the alcohol-free beer I had, was not.