The birds at the beach. God they were so beautiful. You’d have loved them I swear. Half the beach that I went to was kept as a nature reserve and honestly, it was so alive. There were all sorts of different things. There were the birds that we’re used to, house sparrows, gulls, but there were also birds I’ve not seen before, beautiful red winged birds that hovered above the dunes before sweeping rapidly down.
How I wished more than anything to just grab your hand and share my excitement with you. To hold you close and exclaim over the birds, quietly of course so we didn’t disturb them. That day entirely I had very little distraction and it was so easy to picture you at my side. To imagine how that trip would have gone if you had been here. For a start you’d have made sure that I’d actually had a towel before I set off, or at least hat I’d bought one before I got there, so that I wouldn’t have had to go on a wild goose chase.
You’d have made sure I was properly sun-creamed up, making sure all the bits I couldn’t reach were done. You’d have probably also noticed that I was ridiculously short on factor 50 and made me buy more so that I could reapply it. You’d have made sure I had a t-shirt in my bag, you know, to make sure that my shoulders could be covered just in case I needed to. You’d have fussed over me like a mother hen and I’d have rolled my eyes and pretended to hate it whilst secretly loving every single minute of it.
I’d have left our stuff on the shore just so that I could have a water fight with you, before getting bored and pulling you close and then trying to persuade you to float hand in hand with me in the water, like otters do. Eventually we’d get tired of the water so I’d have dragged you back to shore so that we could lay drying in the sun. At least until I got bored of sitting still so long and dragged you across to the nature reserve.
We’d have looked around there, me geeking out about birds and trees, you geeking out about just general geography, until you would inevitably start whining that your feet were hurting and that you just wanted to rest. So I’d drag you back to the beach, to laze in the water, on a towel by the shore, and to get Fanta at one of the little beach huts by the sure. Maybe if we were feeling daring we’d hire out some kind of boat thing. But I’m not sure I’d trust myself on the controls.
On Monday it was the birds, but when I reached for your hand you weren’t there.