Swan Lake… Or Not?

It is time for the last recap post devoted to my Christmas vacation. Everybody knows that I love walking and I also love the sea so at least one walk to the sea is always a must when I go home. I hate the fact that I can’t go swimming in the winter but I can still enjoy the sound of the sea and the view of its most splendid winter inhabitants – the swans.

It doesn’t even look like winter, does it? It actually looks better than in the summer. The water is so much clearer and I definitely don’t miss the crowds of people who fail to remember how to use a trash can. Only swimming is reserved for braver creatures.

Like this chow chow, for example. Without any hesitation this little guy jumped straight into the water headed to the swans.

Maybe he was a swan in his previous life? Nah, I doubt it. Having in mind his unique grace, he was probably a seal. I wonder how his owner removes the sand from his fur…

But with my typical “Y u ate my breakfast?” face I am not much graceful, either. I need a book on how to look less awkward in a picture or a restraining order of some sort for anybody who tries to approach me with a camera. Leave the poor pregnant cockroach alone, please!

Look, there is more interesting stuff behind me! Who doesn’t like clams? And a few meters away you can collect a boatload of pretty shells.

Or you can just watch the seagulls if you wish. They can be quite amusing when they chase one another in the sky or steal the bread that people give to the swans. They are the bad guys of the sea. In other words, the ones with no manners. I always laugh when I remember the seagull scene in “Finding Nemo” and all the “My! My!” squawking.

Finally I contemplated the beautiful winter sky for a while and said goodbye to my beloved sea. It will be long until we meet again…

I will miss the sea garden, too. It is like its endless meanderings were made for me and my crazy walks. I wish I could go back to those summer afternoons spent on some quiet bench with a book on my lap…

…or back to the childhood days when a part of me believed that this bridge could really make wishes come true. Stupid little me! It’s not like the grown up version is less of a hopeless dreamer but… . I just crossed the bridge and made a wish like in the good old days. What was it? Let’s keep it a secret, shall we? It may or may not involve more endless blue .

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