On Monday, while the sour dough was rising, we did this:
We took the dogs over to Backaskaill, where we found the beach was covered in Kelp, uprooted from the offshore kelp forests by the recent storms. Usually Backaskaill is a wide expanse of clear sand.
There was plenty of detritus for the dogs to investigate, both man-made (plastics, mainly) and natural.
Griff ate far too many dead crabs and we spent the rest of our day waiting for the inevitable… but he actually never did sick them up.
There were an astounding number of very large shells on the beach, bi-valves torn from their beds deep in the kelp.
(My size 7 boot included for scale) I’m having problems with identification – should have brought a few home, really.
Some of the shells were still inhabited – Mr L picked one up and had the fun of seeing it snap shut. We threw him back.
We were on our way back, as the sun was going down, when I took a deep breath and registered my renewed spirits. I felt really happy. I took time to ponder just how many folks, anticipating that the things that they were to receive tomorrow would bring happiness with them, would really feel this good. I am happy that it is not things that bring me my contentment.
What do you do while your dough is rising?
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