On any given Sunday, my wife and I usually go to my dads for a bit of chat and some Sunday dinner, but this Sunday will be different. My dad and my sister will be heading out to Spain for a few weeks, so we will be at a bit of a loose end. However, I have a plan.
Whenever I say, “I have a plan!” my wife usually rolls her eyes and says “Go on then, tell me.” Whilst preparing to shoot it down in flames. My plan is that we go and see the sailing regatta in the village about 5 miles from where we live and have a picnic. I am also suggesting that we take my mother-in-law, as she does not get out much.
If the weather is good, we will pack the picnic ‘basket’ with goodies and fill a couple of thermos flasks with hot, sweet tea.
The sailing regatta begins about 4pm, so my plan is… (I can see rolling of eyes) my plan is that we should get there about 1pm, have some lunch, enjoy the view, maybe walk to the local castle which as a few hundred yards away and then sit and wait for the sailing to begin. If the weather is going to be anything like what we have had recently it should be a great day.
The other night my wife and I drove to the boat club holding the regatta just because it seemed like a good idea at the time. We sat watching the long grass that bordered the sand and shingle beach, weave and almost dance in the warm gentle breeze that came of the water. The leaves in the trees nearby hissed as the air passed through them and the seabirds circled overhead, sometimes landing on the damp sand to feed or to rest.
Out on the water about a dozen small sailboats bobbed in a low tide, their ropes slapping against their masts. A yellow glow settled on the undulating River Forth as the sun shone below sparse white cloud that drifted across the sky.
Now if the weather is going to be anything like that on Sunday, we should be more than content.
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