The Folly Was Our Target
‘We’re nearly there’, I cried out for the seventh or eighth time.
The steps cut into the cliffs were numerous and crude, but I was on a mission. Tonight the sun would set, and we would be in a beautiful position to see day turn to night.
My bag contained glasses along with water and, of course, wine…..three bottles. They chattered to me happily, as I climbed the crude steps, as though they were looking forward to the evening too.
Arriving at the newly restored ‘toll keepers cottage’, we opened the farm gate and strode into the field. Exercising our ‘right to roam’, I gathered everyone together. They were all urgently sucking in oxygen and I could see excitement on their faces.
The ‘folly’ was our target so off we strode, along the grassy path, as it loomed up to greet us.
The sun was low in the sky as we settled onto a headland overlooking the sea. Quietly we spoke to each other as the wine and water was passed around. Some of our group sat on the grass and gazed off to the horizon. It appeared to be on fire!
The sea was still and not even a gull flew across our vision.
Lundy Island basked in the cooling sunlight. She knew the sun will return tomorrow and so readied for her slumber. Perhaps the seabirds we’re sitting on her cliffs, waiting and watching too.
And so it was…… as Sundays sun slipped away!