Wandering Through The Land Of Nod.

In which I remember a day at the British seaside in a surprising heatwave when I couldn’t think of a word to describe how I was coping and how all my words for a written blog seemed to melt away in the heat.  This is the comeback I’ve been waiting for.

With relief, I pushed open the white painted door and stepped into the cool interior.  The Art Gallery shop in the quiet British seaside town was a feast for the eyes.  It dazzled with vibrant colour as I gazed at seascapes, gulls and hillsides, with their light and flight captured forever in sympathetic frames.  Alongside the paintings were textile art, jewellery and ceramics.  A beautifully painted bee cup caught my eye, and I remembered the bumble bees enjoying the lavender in our garden at home, I was not thinking very much as I wandered around, trying not to bump into other tourists who were doing the same thing while they escaped the alien, hot, fierce sun. 

I did choose some greetings cards and gift tags and took them to the counter.

“How are you coping with the temperature?”  the friendly host said, as she took my payment. 

I looked blankly at her.    

My heat fogged brain was slow to respond, but eventually I said, “I don’t think I’ve got the words to describe how I’m coping; it is so beyond my experience, I reckon I need to learn a new language.”

This happened in June 2026.  We were in Arnside, in the northwest of England, on the border of Cumbria and Lancashire.  That area was just outside the danger zone for heatwave, but it was still very hot and dry.  We’d only visited there in winter before, when it is beautiful in a freezing cold, bracing, storm laden way.

That day, apart from seeking cool and calm in a shop full of creative treasures, we had attempted to sit outside a pub and enjoy a cool drink, but the heat drove us indoors, where I ate a delicious prawn salad.  We also walked along the beach, enjoying the warm sand and watching dogs swimming in the sea.

 This was very pleasant and enjoyable for a holiday, and it was surprising.  I’ve heard it on good authority that by July it was raining in the Northwest, so the weather didn’t stay alien for so long there.

JThe heatwave did take my words away.  At times this year, it’s been an effort to talk, and it’s felt impossible for me to write.  That’s why, although I’ve felt like I’m wandering, I haven’t written about it.  Strangely, I didn’t even have the energy to worry about it!

Now, it is August and although I certainly want to see and feel some rain because my dry eyes hurt through looking at parched, scorched gardens and my skin is thirsty for moisture, I know I have to live in this drought and heat.  I also know that I have to and want to write, so here I am.

I have, happily grown to enjoy never having to wear a coat and hanging washing out in the certainty of it drying.

I am mesmerised by dust clouds rising up whenever there is a hint of a breeze and devastated by the news of wildfires destroying trees and heathland, along with animal, bird and insect life.  On the first day of August, I was surprised to see that the leaves on the sycamore tree round the corner from our house are turning golden already.

The question which the lady at the art gallery shop counter asked made me think.

Let me repeat that question for you:

How are you coping with the temperature?  Do you have the words to tell us?

I’d love to hear.

Wander well

Mandy.

Three things I love:

• The English seaside.
• Paintings seaside souvenirs.
• A beautiful greetings card.

There are more heatwave thoughts to come. Please like and subscribe.