A strong north westerly wind
blows out of a clear sky.
Walking this shore of sand
swept high, covering rocky ground,
firm and cool under foot,
brings back memories of last October,
the first swim of summer,
the warming sun, the still-too-cold water.
Long before that, sailing to windward
against a north westerly wind and sea,
plugging away against spray and waves,
seemingly endless, till at last, calm water.
The words of the novel  stop my tracks:
"So we beat on, boats against the current,
borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Looking out to sea under today's clear sky,
the sun slowly warms after a swim, likely
the last of this summer, before
our coldest months, wind and showers
sweep in from the southern ocean,
until October comes round again.
The thought warms me, and turning
into the wind and sunshine, I walk
back home along the beach.