The sand at Talisker bay is beautiful, made up of hundreds of tiny particles of black, hundreds of tiny particles of white. The two colours mingle together, especially beautiful where rivulets of water run down to join the sea leaving ethereal dancing lines in their wake. The patterns look like they could’ve been drawn with charcoal.
The water is stunningly clear. The tide is going out fast and the pull and push of it is apparent even in the shallows. Jet dark sea stacks frame one end of the bay, a waterfall with little falling from it at the other. We walked to get here so there are no houses, no roads. Sheep graze at the back of the bay, a rusted wire fence lying useless on its side between them and the sand.
The water is cool but not bastard cold as I’d expected. When I look down I can see the patterns on the sand blurred by the water. I return to shore for my goggles and, with them on, I body surf with the white water, rushing forward over twists and twirls of black and white. As the waves break and the water becomes rough and shallow the sand rises up into a hundred tiny dust storms, beautiful patterns hidden, particles snatched up then left momentarily to settle and paint new pictures in the sand.
I’m raising money for the Alzheimer’s Society. Please sponsor me at http://www.justgiving.com/swimbonnieswim