136 Curling folding breaking waves (high-definition sound and sleep safe)

Full Episode description

Wide silent sky. Still warm air. Having followed a country footpath across miles of open farmland you found it led you up and over a stony bank and, like a natural magic trick, down onto a deserted, shingle beach, animated with its own soft crashing waves.

Nobody’s about. Really, nobody. It’s a stretch of beach between Rye Harbour and Winchelsea that’s somehow, perhaps for you, kept itself perfectly deserted. It’s the sort of place you’ve been longing for. Now all you need is time. 

You find yourself scanning the horizon. Surely somebody must be about on this warm October Sunday. Layered shingle berms stretch out to the left. Pristine water out ahead. A heavily laden timbered groyne to the right, bearing all the weight of the longshore drift. There is really no one here. Except for a distant calling seabird.
 
Scrunching forward, and a few yards from the wetted shoreline, you find a patch of shingle, fold your coat, and sit down to listen to the waves. They’re so close, and yet so soft. So full and detailed, as they curl, and fold, and crash onto the beach. Soft crashing. And soft sifting textures, of shifting shingle. You wonder about time. If it’s been five minutes, or ten. But your hands are resting now, feeling the cool stones. There really is no need to check. No need to move.