CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A CLUSTER TO ACCESS ITS ENLARGED GALLERY
This morning Jackie drove us to Avon Beach at Mudeford and back.
Tossing up spray in their wake, the sage green waves
and the brisk winds offered a couple of surfers a splendid playground,
within sight of watchers on the rocky breakwater.
It was a day on which pre-school children wrapped up their grandparents well and took them for a bracing walk. One gleeful little girl enjoyed defeating the waves in their attempt to soak her. She was even more delighted when I displayed my water-filled shoes and socks and decidedly damp trouser legs. I had not been so nimble. My driver informed me that the seventh wave always ascends further up the shingle than the preceding six. I will try to remember that.
After lunch I deleted more images from iMac’s Photos
This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid sausage casserole; creamy mashed potato; and crisp carrots, cauliflower, and runner beans. I finished the Paniza.
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Very nice!
Thank you, JG
Those photos really do convey the chill and winds of the day. The creamy mashed potatoes especially seem to me to be the perfect sequel to it–and dry clothing presumably!
Many thanks, Donnalee. Dry clothing certainly 🙂
Who knew? The seventh wave. I wonder if that’s true for all bodies of water?
I wonder, too. Many thanks, Mama
When I first saw your headline, I thought it was some kind of mystic message. I hope the children put bows on their grandparents after wrapping them up. The sausage casserole’s making my tummy growl…
Many thanks, Mike 🙂
Your driver and sage is correct – we always run away from the water after the sixth wave, knowing the seventh will get us 🙂 My sea is extremely blue at the moment.
The little one looks like she’s having fun. I’ve never heard that about the seventh wave, Derrick. You’re always teaching me something new. 🙂
🙂 Many thanks, Jill.
There’s always a bigger wave! 😀
🙂 Thanks very much, Widders
I do love pictures of waves, Derrick. Tomorrow’s threaten to be even more special.
Many thanks, Roland. My godmother had a wonderful painting of waves on her wall. That must be why I like them now
The sea is always so mesmerizing and you bring your piece of it to me with pizzazz. 🙂
Very many thanks, Cynthia
The sea in all its angst and glory. what lovely captures Derrick. Love your silhouette shots too.
Many thanks, Arlene
Your wave photos are a reminder that the big. big world is still just one world and your waves are just my waves only a bit before or after.
Quite so, Paol. Many thanks
waves : always the same and somehow, always different, I do not tire of them.
So true, Sylvie. Many thanks
waves recede –
child’s laugh lifts
grandfather’s heart
wetting feet in memories.
🙂
Beautiful comment, Joseph. Many thanks
The little girl and her grandma make for a pretty pair. I am duly mystified by the secret of the seventh wave, except that I’d probably never know when to start counting. The ebullience of both surfer and the waves has been well captured.
Very many thanks, Uma
The seventh wave was something I was taught as a child, I suppose that you would have to wait for a big wave before counting, but does the big wave count as ‘One’ or do you start with the wave after the big wave? ! I have spent many childhood seaside visits counting waves and never really found an answer.
Thanks, Jackie! That only deepens the mystery 😀!
🙂
interesting 7th wave and I’d love to try some of Jackie’s sausage casserole. Warming..
Many thanks, Pamela
How nice to take a drive to the beach! The surfers are so cool derrick! I also love the little ones with their grandparents! Lovely post
Thanks very much, Lynn
so nice
Wonderful pictures. I was especially taken with “sage green waves.”
Thanks very much, Laurie. I meant to add luminous, but forgot
Beautiful captures Derrick.
Many thanks, Sumith
Splendid photos of the beach and sea–and waves coming in countless numbers.
I liked your comment about preschoolers wrapping up their grandparents and taking them for a walk, and I can imagine the glee with which the child viewed your wet clothing. I remember taking my younger daughter on walks–where she would delight in stomping into puddles.
I remember reading Henri Charriere’s ‘Papillon’, where the convict planned an escape from an island prison ~ having spent days of observation, he relied on the seventh wave being large enough to carry him off the rocks and thence to freedom.
x
Wow. That rather confirms it. Many thanks Melanie
You’re very welcome.
x
Well there we are I’ve been scrolling through looking for proof and there it is; thank you! 😀
We certainly needed that, but what astounds me is that YOU of all people DID NOT KNOW!!!
🌊 x 🌊
I was brung up in London, where there ain’t no waves, innit?
Me too, so I tried to make me own but me muvver walloped me!
🙂
I enjoyed this roaring and splashing post, Derrick! I have lived by a lake for almost my whole life so think this is meant to be ocean waves. . .
We usually bounced up in Lake Erie and let the wave take us back to shore. . .
The children and grandparents comment was so clever, Derrick. The child’s delight was what brought a big smile to my face. 😊
Very many thanks, Robin
Jackie is very wise.
Sadly this seems not to be a quality shared by all members of the household, with their wet socks. 🙂
Julia tells me that it is a universal truth that all men step in things, fall off things and generally never stop being five years old in these matters.
Julia’s prejudiced. Thank you both very much
🙂