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Another bank holiday, and I’ve spent enough time watching the jubilee festivities, and working so on my day off I decided to take my self off to one of the most beautiful places I know.

So today I find my self, sat looking out over the estuary from Mersea island.
Relishing the scent of ozone, and the sound of the wind whistling around the stays of the boats all around me.

Insect’s attacking me from every direction as I walk back up the coast road to the small cafe on the corner opposite the church.

Mersea is only a small island, cut off from the mainland twice a day when the tide covers the causeway.

But for the most important five years of my teenage life, it was the place I called home.

At the time I didn’t appreciate its beauty and charm, like a teenager’s I was too busy growing up, rebelling and dis-liking all my parents liked.

Its only as I’ve got older and lived away from the island for more than twenty years, that I’ve realised just what a magic place it is.

I’ve been sat looking out over the estuary for the last half hour, contemplating my life, the direction its taking, drawing inspiration from my surroundings as I plan for my future.

Feeling the ideas wash over me like the tide laps the shore line, slowly but surely building my plan in my mind. Considering the next step.

And just making the most of spending time near the water, a lot has changed on the island, since I moved away to college at sixteen.

However strangely enough so much is still familiar, and the estuary is timeless.

The wading birds, still wade on the flats when the tide is out, the fishing boat’s though not as numerous still ply their trade and Mersea oysters are still rightly famous, and still grown and harvested on the mud-flats.

And the children still sail their dinghies from the sailing clubs in tight, colourful little groups, in summer I imagine they still throw jellyfish at each other and spend afternoon’s crabbing from the hard as they did all those years ago when I left.

Even though now the hard is a new marina development, and the old oyster shack has a famous restaurant, and the tiny fisherman’s cottages are now second homes for stressed executives.
The sailing club and the yacht club are still the same, and the people are as friendly as they’ve always been.

By the time I reach the cafe on the corner, my mind and body are refreshed.
And all my plans are making sense, slowly taking shape in my mind, and as for inspiration my cup runneth over.

Love & light

Andy x