Utterly Peaceful

There’s a sense of calm walking along the water’s edge on Oxwich Beach. The ripple of tiny waves on the shore makes virtually no noise at all, and there’s a great feeling of peace and space.  In winter, I’m often the only person here in early morning, and today I see just a couple with a dog by the distant Nicholaston stream.  No ships break the line on the wide horizon, and all the small boats that moor in the lea of the Oxwich Head during the summer months are long gone.

The weather’s been calm of late, with little wind, and with the tide out, the sea looks benign. A few gulls rest on the surface near the shore, but many more bathe and preen in the brackish water where Nicholaston Pill widens and flattens as it crosses the beach.

Although it’s December, it feels more like April, and Gower can often be like this during winter.  In the sand dunes it’s more or less silent, just the tinkle of an occasional goldfinch breaks through the still air. It is utterly peaceful. The morning sunrise behind the silhouette of the marram grass is beautiful. Ponies are used in the dune slacks to keep the vegetation in check, and the more inquisitive ones come close, but most just watch me walk by.  The wood behind what once was called the green door has gradually spread into the dunes at this point, and some of the trees are now mature.  Old familiar paths through the woodland to the Middle Pond are now overgrown and gone. What hasn’t changed however is the winter tit flock, which makes its way slowly through the trees as it has done for the decades that I’ve been coming to this peaceful spot.