Living with Lockdown - 18

As we pack away the paint pots at the end of another perfect autumn day in Kommetjie, golden light bathes the mountains  bas the sun lowers itself towards the far horizon. The glassy sea belies the heavy swell still coming in from the cold front, and I see a gigantic wave breaking in the gap between the houses looking towards Hout Bay. Every view counts these days, and it is a privilege to still be able to see the waves thundering against the foot of the Sentinel, or passing ships, both behemoths and dinghies.
Under normal circumstances, this would be the time of day to wander along the boardwalk towards the lighthouse, meeting other dog walkers and strollers basking in the last sunlight, watching the sea birds returning to roost on the rocks, or the smaller cisticolas, grass birds and robin-chats in the low shrubs along the shoreline.
Pleasantries would be exchanged with those who are only met on this daily ritual, friends for a moment in time, or ships that pass in the night. We might sit on one of the benches that line the bay, many bearing memorial plaques to those who were friends and neighbours over the years, now only a distant memory.
This seaside village has seen many changes over the last 40 years, but the ebb and flow of the tides along the shoreline between the lighthouse and Long Beach is something that will endure forever, bringing a little piece of paradise to those who wander here.