Sennen

The sign said; ‘Watch out for eroded paths and adders!’

From the road view, the sea was far below, whispering white waves on a sunny turquoise background. It didn’t seem that far away, but it was.

We just had to get down there. All the way to Sennen Cove, Whitesand Bay at the farthest flung corner of Britain. No holding back now!

Such a clear day for March, but the wind was steady and raw, the anvil clouds above so clear to nearly touch. They moved towards us silently, but swiftly, and the grey strands of showers, ever nearer. Another heavy shower shadowing overhead.

This was some place here, high on a cliff road, at the edge of England, with the Scilly Isles curving far on the horizon. Not a soul to be seen.

 We beat a retreat and headed back to the car. The cocoon of comfort shut out the cold, shut out the wind. Let’s just stay here.

 The rain came and hammered on the roof, and somehow we felt safe. It spread its beads of water over our view, through the windscreen. The sea a misty grey now. Then it was gone. And we had no excuses. And the sun was shining.

So we walked down the path and steps to the beach below and it was a long, long way down, and a longer way back.

The beach was empty. A solitary red flag flew stiff in the wind by the side of an empty lifeguard hut. Only the wind, still down here below the cliff. We walked and walked to find some small sanctuary of calm away from the wind and in the sun. but there was nowhere.

It was beautiful clean white sand, unspoilt. Then we found a dead cow.

Just tossed there along the high tide mark, bloated against the rocks. It wasn’t so unpleasant as I thought it might be. Just the carcass of a body with no life in it. Lifeless. Just washed clean. No pain now. No life force. At peace on this elemental shoreline, it’s soul in cow heaven.

 We looked for a while, thought to report it to someone when we could, and then we walked on.

  Sennen sketch

 We eventually found somewhere to sit and I sketched the raging sea for fifteen minutes: Raw Sienna, Indigo sky and sea, Burnt Umber rocks, a touch of Cobalt blue and green. My thumb was numb from holding onto the paper. my wife sat next to me reading a John La Carre novel. But fifteen minutes sitting was enough! We cleared off.

 We were on our way, back up the cliff along steps that seemed to go on forever. We wondered whether to take the cow with us.

Well….in the supermarket… its costs a fortune for beef and …

We set off for civilisation and a pub roast lunch in Penzance.

I later phoned to report the cow.