Somewhat to my surprise, but no less welcome for that, I note that my blog, which I closed down (“sort of”) with my post on December 31, is continuing to attract a fair number of visits.
It’s a safe bet, I reckon, that most of you were not aware of my blog in its formative years or have long since forgotten its earlier posts anyway.
So I figure if the BBC can get away with repeats, then so can I!
Here, then, with spring hopefully not too far off now, is the first in an occasional series providing a fresh airing for some of my own old favourites.
A DAY IN A MILLION IN CORNISH SPRINGTIME, originally published April 2017
Just a few hours’ flight away, there continue to be unspeakable horrors - pure hell on earth, no less, for the poor, wretched souls unfortunate enough to live there. Here, in our beloved Cornwall, we have just been blessed with yet another glorious morning that could have come straight from Heaven itself.
I chose a change of direction for my walk. Instead of my “standard” Pendennis-Point-and-Falmouth-seafront route, I headed out west, to Swanpool and Pennance Point.
Sunglasses abounded and spirits were as bright as the sun rising over the sparkling bay. The “good morning” count from total strangers was well above average and even some of the runners looked that little bit less grim and strained than usual.
At Gyllyngvase Beach, dogs joined (wetsuited) people swimming in the sea, while a convoy of half a dozen stand-up paddle boarders created quite a spectacle as they powered across, 20 or so yards offshore.
Some spectators were busy photographing this spectacle; others simply stood still and gazed out to sea, their hands to their foreheads, marvelling at the beautiful stillness of the flat-calm bay, with its sprinkling of ships at anchor.
Along the Pennance headland, I paused to look down on the shimmering waters of my all-time favourite swimming spot at Sunny Cove. Once upon a time I would have been in those waters today – and so many more days throughout the year. (These heated indoor pools have so much to answer for!)
Up through the woods and then turn right, towards Maenporth, with a whole new vista unfolding in the direction of Maenporth and the mouth of the Helford River.
Time for a little pause. I sit down beneath a granite monument, on which I read:--
FOR FREEDOM
This seat and the path leading thereto have been provided as a memorial to the men of Number (Illegible, possibly 1.1) Falmouth Company of the Home Guard who during 1940, 41, 42, 43, 44, after their day’s work, nightly patrolled this coast, armed and vigilant against German landings. Thus they watched 1,000 dawns appear across these great waters which form our country’s moat.
Since those dark days of the Second World War, the trees and hedges have long since grown to obscure much of the view those Home Guarders would have had, but there are still tantalising glimpses of the glistening bay to be had from this seat.
The birds are singing, overhead and in amongst those trees – oh, such beautiful, beautiful birdsong – and it is indeed a time for reflection, for counting our blessings.
As we did during the weekend, when I was chatting with a neighbour who is now recovering well from a heart attack and is joyously celebrating every day, especially days like these.
And as we did yesterday in the Merchants Manor Hotel’s jetpool (very much a place for putting everything to rights!), when one of my fellow indoor-swimmers came up with the line: “Ah well, never mind, it could all be over within a few weeks now anyway.”
“Yes,” I said, “World War III is shaping up nicely, isn’t it.”
“I don’t know,” said another. “I’m sorry, but I just try and avoid all the bad news; there’s nothing I can do about it.”
I nodded in agreement with her, adding: “One day at a time, eh?”
And what a day – again. In the spring, with a burst of beautiful weather here in our magical Cornwall, is there a better time of year, or a finer place to be?
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