All the over-the-top superlatives you can think of are crowding my brain today. What a place to live, especially when the weather is like this. We may say ‘hit me if I complain about the wind’, but if you are lucky enough to be close to the sea and snatch a waft of the breeze in the shade of an ancient milkwood, there is very little to complain about right now. A glittering sea bears behemoths of the ocean, with small fishing boats heading home after days at sea, hopefully with the holds full, and a stand-up paddler claims the ocean as his own, with no waves to entice a surfer or ten.
The tide laps at the retaining wall of the Kom, the lawns where kids kick a ball on a summer’s evening while Dad tries to hook a haarder from the shallows of the bay. Today there are many fishermen trying their luck, a free fish supper perhaps their only prospect for a meal, and one can only wish them luck. You have to go further afield to catch a fish worthy of a fry.
The sea lice are running up the wall and scuttling across my hand, something they do in anticipation of a very high tide, but unless they know something we don’t, it’s not that phase of the moon and a little puzzling. The Kom is filled with splashing kids who seem not to care about cold water, and on testing same, it turns out to be quite warm for the Atlantic. Perhaps a little offshoot of the Agulhas current has whirled around Cape Point. The water is crystal clear as it sweeps in small increments over the rocky platform that once formed the seabed, swirling soft seaweed into eddies of golden pinks, greens and palest beige.
A bright watermelon-hued beach umbrella is unfolded on the other side of the lawn. It’s picnic time. But not for me. The sun has reached its zenith and it’s time to retreat to the shade of the trees at home, and contemplate the pleasures of the free things in life.