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Lisa G Saw • Sep 17, 2022

Worthing Beach

It’s hard to know when summer is over and autumn has begun when you have a glorious warm sunny day in September. There may have been fewer people on the beach compared to the height of summer, but some were braving the water, having a swim. Three paddleboarders drifted by close to the shore and further out, two groups of small single sail boats were gliding across the relatively calm water. It looked so inviting as it glistened like diamonds in the sun.

                           

On the beach, a lone gull was standing on the last wooden post of the groyne, like a sentry keeping a watchful eye out for intruders. A wide band of brown seaweed stretched along the high tide line from earlier in the day. Thankfully, it was downwind from me, so its strong salty smell didn't pass under my nose! A single white feather was sticking out of one clump, its origins unknown – it could have been from miles away. Closer to where I was sitting, near my feet, a small spider suddenly appeared, crawling amongst the pebbles, then disappeared from sight just as quickly.

 

I turned my face towards the sun and closed my eyes for more than a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of its rays. Ever since I discovered it’s good for your eyes, I’ve tried to bathe my closed lids in the sun whenever I can. It felt good to relax them and not observe anything for a while, other than the orange marble effect I could see with my eyes shut. Being out in nature, away from the computer, the TV screen, books, or any other device that adds strain to the eyes, was a welcome relief. Life slows down in these wonderful precious moments.

 

When I opened my eyes to the world again I noticed a Small White butterfly head towards the water, but quickly it changed direction - there was nothing to entice it further. Instead, it flitted past me towards some Sea Kale nearby, reminding me why they’re sometimes referred to as Cabbage Whites. I got up and wandered over to photograph it with my phone. I noticed its dark grey wing tips and how this extends further along the horizontal edge than the vertical one, reconfirming to me it was definitely a Small White, not a large one. It looked as though it was freshly emerged with beautiful pristine brilliant white wings. Periodically, it rested in the big curled leaves before moving on to another. I was thrilled to capture a moment when it was in flight.

From there, I walked down to the water’s edge where the pebbles thinned out and I could see the sand – wet and compact. The tide was on its way in, but since there was a low on-shore breeze, it was fairly gentle. I stood there really focusing my attention on the calm sound of the water. It soothes the soul. It slows everything down. It can’t be rushed. Everything in its own time. There was a low gentle sounding whoosh as the tide swept up the beach, followed by an ever so slight pause, and a split second of silence, before it receded again. But when the water was pulled back out to sea, draining down the beach, it was a higher pitched sound as it glided over the pebbles, rolling a few along with it. The sound was like rice being poured into a pan.

 

The highs and lows of the tide are like the ups and downs of life. It’s certainly been a turbulent year for me, which is why the mindfulness moments have been so beneficial, not least because I’m now writing again. Like a long-lost friend, I’ve been reunited with something that brings me great joy. Now, I finally feel like I’m on the up-curve, and it’s time to move forward. Whilst I don’t fully feel like ‘myself’ yet, I trust and hope things will work out in the end. I’m trying to stay positive and ignore the negative chatter in my head. There’s so much to be excited about – new possibilities for the future. I’ll focus my attention on those as I try to go with the flow and hold on to the calm I feel when I’m listening to the sound of the tide.

By Lisa G Saw 14 Jan, 2024
During the first half of our autumn holiday up in Scotland, we'd filled our boots with sightings of deer. Now our focus switched primarily to Mountain Hares and Ptarmigan. Since both species live at high altitudes, it meant a lot of walking uphill! It would be hard work! But, I felt confident I'd be able to manage it, so long as I simply took it slow and steady with frequent stops. At least we were able to intersperse these challenging days with more relaxing ones. On our first day based in Boat of Garten, we decided to venture up the Cairn Gorm Mountain. The mountain railway was closed, as were the ski lifts, so there was no easy access to higher ground. But, since the car park was located at 635m, we were able to start our walk from a reasonably high point. I was thrilled the top of the mountains were covered in snow. It looked so beautiful, though of course, this meant we'd be walking through the white stuff and would undoubtedly get quite wet. We chose to follow the steep Windy Ridge path up to the Ptarmigan restaurant - the highest in the UK. It was given its name due to the high number of this species on the mountain, which was perhaps a good sign. So, I set off with optimism and very happy that it was a glorious sunny start to the day.
Red Deer stag in the mountains
By Lisa G Saw 29 Dec, 2023
I love visiting Scotland, seeking out new places as well as returning to favoured locations. Even though I've been several times over the last few years, I've never been up there during the autumn, around the time of the deer rut. I was thrilled to finally have the opportunity this year, even though I knew the chances of actually seeing any activity were extremely slim. As much as I wanted to see the Red Deer up in the Highlands, there were actually two other species that were higher on my 'Want To See' list for the trip - Mountain Hares and Ptarmigan. I've been lucky enough to see them before, but was eager for more wonderful experiences. I knew they'd still be just as potentially challenging to locate and photograph, with declining numbers even in favoured locations. It would certainly make the trip more of an adventure. The fact I wasn't going alone this time, but instead sharing the experience with Bob - on our first holiday together - made it even more special. I really hoped we would get lucky with our target species, especially as Bob had only seen one Mountain Hare before and never laid eyes on a Ptarmigan.
Marsh Fritillary
By Lisa G Saw 10 Sep, 2023
April 2023 marked the end of my quest to see all the butterflies that live their complete life cycle in Sussex. The final species I saw, during the Easter weekend, was the Large Tortoiseshell. Following the exciting conclusion to my adventure, I wrote a post about Discovering the Butterflies of Sussex . In it I mentioned how chuffed I was with what I'd achieved and how I didn't really want to start the next obvious quest straight away, to see all the UK butterfly species. But, with the spring and summer months stretching out before me, it seemed silly not to make a start this year. Bob and I were still in the early stages of our budding romance, and the idea of spending a lovely long day out together was just too enticing to pass up. So, in late May, we headed over to Martin Down National Nature Reserve in Wiltshire, in the hope of seeing the Marsh Fritillary. It would be my first, but not for Bob. He's already seen all the UK butterfly species, except for the Cryptic Wood White, which is only found in Ireland. We woke super early and reached the nature reserve by 8am. Unsurprisingly, we were the first ones there. It was still quite cool and a little windy, but nice enough to enjoy our breakfast sitting on a bench by the car park, overlooking the wildflower meadow and the hills just beyond to the south. We heard a Cuckoo calling nearby - an unmistakable sound of spring. Lovely! It was a great start to the day.
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