Tag Archives: beach

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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2016.”

It has always struck me as a little odd, having a sandpit on a beach.

This beach is full of shingle though (despite, as Arthur pointed out, being called Blackpool Sands). It’s a beautiful spot, but sometimes a boy just wants to dig.

And swim: the waves were rolling in, but we were playing in the sea not long after this picture was taken.

Not bad for nearly the end of September.

Linking up with Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2016.”

I will never get tired of being able to just pop to the beach on our way home from whatever else it is we’re doing. And I love that this one thinks it is entirely normal: sand in his toes and the sea stretched out behind him, his world an ocean of possibilities just waiting to be explored.

Linking up with Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2016.”

These diggers have come everywhere with us since we bought them last week.

I really try not to just randomly buy stuff for Arthur, but he is so completely fascinated by anything to do with construction that when I saw them online I couldn’t resist. They are the first things he wants when he wakes up: he came out of his room a few mornings ago, earlier than usual, and headed straight towards the stairs instead of into me for cuddles. When I asked what he was doing he said that his diggers needed him because they had been having bad dreams.

At home he plays with them with kinetic sand, or on his road mat, or with his trains. Sometimes he just lines them up carefully in front of him so he can look at them more closely: he knows the names of almost every part of them, and will happily relay them to anyone who will listen.

He’s been having some trouble with the tracked excavator, because the rubber tracks keep coming off when he drives it on the floor or in the tuff spot. We worked out, though, when we took them to the beach, that it just needs rough ground beneath it and it works just fine.

The things you learn when you spend your days with a three year old…

Linking up with Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2016.”

To have a beach – Arthur’s beach – on the way home from town is probably the reason I love living here the most.

He is so completely at ease there – could spend hours throwing and climbing and sitting and looking. At this time of year it’s particularly special, because more often than not there is no-one else around.

Just me and my Arthur, the stones and the sea.

Linking up with Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. 

Sunday photo: 8th November 2015

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Arthur very much knows his mind at the moment. I like it, but it’s challenging.

We went for a walk in the rain this week: I had a couple of Council meetings in town that I couldn’t miss so we donned our waterproofs and headed in. By the time we came back Arthur was overdue a nap. We got to the beach, and he lay down on the rocks he loves to climb and closed his eyes.

I kept going, walking up the steps towards the road. I’d had more than enough drizzle for one day and I was sure he’d follow me.

He didn’t.

Linking up today’s pic with Darren at One Dad 3 Girls for My Sunday Photo and Jodi at Practising Simplicity for The 52 Project. Check out their blogs for some fantastic photography from across the blogosphere!

The joy of sandcastles

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For the last two summers, Arthur’s interest in sand hasn’t extended much beyond eating it. So you can imagine my relief (and Leigh’s delight) when on our recent holiday to Crete he began to understand the pleasure to be had from building castles in the sand.

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Many a day would begin with me lying back in the sun with a book (pretty much my idea of bliss) whilst my boys readied their tools and began the digging and water gathering and moulding that would culminate in a majestic castle.

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Arthur grew very attached to his little bucket and spade set, and would not go to the beach without it.

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He especially loved anything to do with water. He was fascinated by a little water wheel he found that became the mechanism for filling the channel to the moat, and very amusingly got attached to a broken bucket, not quite understanding why it was always empty when he returned from filling it up in the sea.

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I was not super keen on the whole getting covered in sand part, but I couldn’t resist getting involved at the exterior decoration stage. There’s something about moseying along at the water’s edge collecting pretty shells, stones and sea-worn glass that transports me right back to my childhood.

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And as for Leigh – he was there! Totally rapt in the task, enjoying the banter and admiration it invited from other dads. His piece de resistance was an Arthur-sized sand car, which drew quite a crowd of curious toddlers before being washed away by the sea.

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I think the inherent transience of sandcastles is a big part of their appeal – you’re working with what nature has to offer, albeit with the help of a few man-made tools, shaping it into structures that spark the imagination. And then before the next day comes the sea has reclaimed its wares, leaving behind a fresh slate for you to begin again.

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I have a feeling there will be many sandcastles in our lives this summer, and I’m looking forward to seeing what else Arthur and his daddy come up with…

 

Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall

Simple pleasures

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It’s been a tricky couple of weeks for getting out and about. The weather’s not been great, and with Arthur recovering from the croup which struck him down just after his birthday I have been reluctant to take him out in the cold and the damp without good reason.

But this week has been all about getting back into normal routine. His classes have started up again, and although he’s still a bit sniffly we’ve both had enough of being stuck indoors.

On Thursday morning I awoke to torrential rain, with a sleeping toddler snuggled up beside me. It was still dark outside, and I really doubted whether we were going to get it together to make it to music. But we did, wrapped up in the sling and our trusty babywearing coat. It was lovely to see friends again, and by the time we were ready to head home the sun had appeared.

It was still cold, but as we passed our local beach Arthur began to bounce in the sling, asking excitedly if he could throw stones in the sea. And so I let him down, and watched as the smile spread across his face, filled with joy at this simple and familiar pleasure. It reminded me how very lucky we are to live where we do, and how much I’m looking forward to making the most of that over the months to come.

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Linking up with Fiona at Coombe Mill for Country Kids. 

An unexpected dip

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Well, I say unexpected. It wasn’t entirely – as we were dashing out of the door I knew that a trip to the beach without Arthur ending up in the sea was unlikely. We were only planning on a bit of a stroll though, a blast of sea air to blow the cobwebs away and break up the monotony of a Sunday where both me and Leigh had way too much work to do.

When we got to St Mary’s Bay, a beach on the other side of Brixham that we don’t visit nearly as often as we should, Arthur was as thrilled as we were by the wide expanse of sand left by the tide. Not quite as thrilled though as he was by the prospect of running towards the waves that were gently crashing in the distance…

It soon became clear that he wasn’t going to be able to resist the lure of the water, and we stripped him down to his vest suit for a paddle.

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As as his enthusiasm increased I was glad of the shorts I’d slipped into the bag as an afterthought. This would have been the point at which any sensible parent would have steered the toddler to drier sand further up the beach, but I’ve never been very good at ignoring the call of the sea.

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And then moments later, he was in. An errant wave, a little stumble, and Arthur was up to his neck in the water.

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It didn’t bother him of course. The water actually wasn’t all that cold, and after the initial surprise of it he was off, flying across the sand.

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He was drawn to the stones that lay scattered across the beach, fascinated by the little pools that formed around them where his toes would disappear if he got too close.

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It was just what he needed to be honest, just what we all needed – a bit of freedom and mess and a break from playing by the rules.

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We did draw the line when it looked like he was going to tackle those waves again. Next time we’ll make sure we’re better prepared, even if it is September…

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But for this trip it was time to strip off his soaking wet clothes, attempt to dry him with my jeans and bundle him up in the sling ready for the climb up the steps and back to the car.

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We all ended up covered in sand, but there was definitely no sign of those cobwebs.

 
Country Kids from Coombe Mill Family Farm Holidays Cornwall     photo 93142f35-6d39-479f-b3de-d94dbca68162_zps58499252.jpg

 

K is for kite

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Boxing day, 2013. Leigh had been given a kite for Christmas, and as we headed to the beach to walk off the indulgence of the day before there was a palpable sense of excitement. The day was crisp and cold and bright: for a British winter it could hardly have been bettered. The wind was strong, but as it happened that was just what we wanted.

Arthur was nuzzled up in the sling, still computing the craziness of his first Christmas season and, not that he knew it, waiting to experience his first birthday two days later. It was the adults though who were rapt with the simple pleasure of a kite flying high in the December sky.

We each had a go, nonchalant at first, trying to conceal our nervousness and anticipation. But as the wind caught the fabric that our hands controlled we in turn were caught by a childlike joy. Those of us who were not physically attached to its pulls and turns found ourselves mimicking the twists and grins of the one who was, unable to tear our eyes away and united in our quest to maintain its flight for as long as possible.

K is for kite.

 

Joining in with The Alphabet Photography Project over at PODcast.