Pebbles In My Pocket

Footprints on beach at Rocken End

Seizing the last of the light, we found ourselves at Rocken End, the entire stretch of pebbly beach to ourselves. The beach isn’t far from the road, but it is a twenty minute scramble from the car park through overgrown jungle-like landslip. Of course, the harder a beach is to get to the more magical it is.

With picnic dinner, coffee and a long leash for Rolo, we had the most deliciously chilled time. As we wandered the shoreline, throwing the frisbee and playing around, I collected a couple pebbles for my pocket.

Tom jumping on a beach at sunset

The last time I picked up pebbles was two years ago on a sunrise trip to Culver Cliff. Those stones stayed in my pocket through everything. In the middle of winter, my hands braced against a storm, or reaching for my keys on a grey supermarket run; every time my fingers would brush against that smooth sunny memory. So when the last one finally disappeared a month ago our evening trip to Rocken End seemed a perfect moment to hold on to.

Rocken End photo collage

Do you collect flotsam on your travels? Ian McEwan returned some rocks to Chesil Beach after the public outcry over his beach theft. I don’t think a couple pebbles sitting in a pocket will tip the balance too greatly and carrying them with me makes me happy. Surely such simple pleasures are not the worst crime.

Pebbles in Rusty's my hand