Tonight’s early evening dog walk will be a precious thing. The last one before the clocks go forward and  early evenings get dark. Too dark to sensibly walk beside the sea where there are no street lamps. Last nights walk was enlivened by a particularly high tide. The bay felt full and the song of the sea, as it hit the cliffs was much more powerful than usual. Ordinarily we might have arranged an early evening swim with the bobbers on a high tide. But for some reason we didn’t and that was a good thing, there was nothing safe about the water conditions last night. We all love a bit of bubbling choppy water but the fun needs to be safe. I was anxious to take some photos to share with the bobbers so we could all feel wise and sensible about  not being cold and wet on a Friday evening.

This was the wave that made me cold and wet on a Friday evening. Rather than stop at the pink step as all the recent ones had. This one got an additional power surge and crashed into the stone steps, sending a spray of water 8 feet into the air. What goes up came down and I was drenched from head to foot.  It was unexpected and exhilarating and just made me laugh as I retreated to safety. Now I am a fairly risk averse person but in that moment the unexpected joy of being powerfully splashed reminded me of being a child squealing at the beach. Which brings me neatly to the prompt that my blog hosts offered today.

How much would you pay to go to the moon?

Honestly I have no desire to go to the moon, so there would never be any spending by me to take a trip there. But if I could safely be tossed around in a clear plastic ball/bubble on and in a rough sea just for twenty minutes  I might consider investing a small amount. It would have to be as safe as the wildest ride at a water park and I would like to be plunged down the huge underwater cliff that is just a few metres from our swimming zone to meet the deep sea creatures that are invisible to me on my daily visits. I have always felt this way. 54 years ago the first man on the moon failed to excite me, but give me a library book filled with deep sea creatures and I was lost for hours . Jacques Cousteau a diver and television documentary maker was a far more romantic and heroic figure than Neil Armstrong could ever be.

The sea, for me, is the Final Frontier. Space is for other people.

P S the eagle eyed noticed an error, the clocks go back. Dark evening panic over for a few weeks.