I live a few hundred meters from a beautiful secluded bay called Saints Bay. The steep descent to the bay and the lack of parking mean that whilst it is one of the best beaches in Guernsey it is never too crowded. Unfortunately it also means that on most days I am unable to get down on to the beach too, but I hold the memories of the bay in my mind. I thought I would share these memories with you;
Saint’s Bay
The stone tower overlooks the bay,
round, grey and austere
it’s slotted windows ever watchful.
Down below two granite slipways
slide from land to sea,
red carpets of welcome.
Grey stones give way to golden sand
exposed by the retreating tide,
silver pools glinting here and there.
Around the bay tall cliffs
stand like sentinels,
clothed in vibrant green.
Waves rush ashore and withdraw,
their white petticoats
flowing over the sand.
Beyond the breakers
pink and orange buoys bob happily
waiting for boats to return.
Lying on the stones, eyes closed,
I listen to birdsong, wave rushed pebbles
and the chatter of children.
The heady scent of honeysuckle
and the fresh sea air
assail my senses.
The pebbles I lie on are hard,
but their smooth surfaces have been warmed
By the sun’s loving gaze.
Here in the bay of the saints,
eyes closed in glorious worship,
I am at home – Heaven.
John Carré Buchanan
12 July 2010
