We're far enough south that on the day of the winter solstice we can anticipate an improvement of not only the length of sunlight but also the weather (which is to say the temperature). The past twenty-four hours have been a blustery beginning to "the season". Earlier I tried bicycling but turned back when the sun suddenly disappeared and sheets of rain began. It was all over within minutes - by which time I had made it back to the property - so I parked myself in a beach chair by the sea and watched and listened to the rollicking waves.
The wind was so forceful that tiny bits of sand surrounded my feet in a granular blanket. The lens of my glasses became smeared with salt sea air; and my hair blew about wildly. Though I was wearing a shell, the cool wind insinuated every crevice, causing me to pull the textile more closely about me. The sun was dazzling, rendering upon my face penetrating warmth between gusts of wind. The colours were intense, the same singular feature of the first water. I heard voices of children further down the beach, escaping the high tide.