Tide 🗞️ Slow News Day #35

Hey,

Full moon, storms in the Atlantic, big fat raindrops dressing the Juliet balcony.

By all rights, the sea should not have been so appealing. But, in all of its dark and choppy movement, it was. We were both feeling pretty depressed and knew a cold dip would bring a hard reset and help us try for a happier feeling again.

We stumbled across the rocky beach out to the high tide line. I’d learned that crossing this beach, with its rise-and-fall carpet of smoothed stones, can only be done slowly. When walking at my usual pace, I'd turn my ankle and end up stepping on the few sharp edges that lurk among the cherubim rocks. But when I slowed down, steadied myself, and took purposeful steps — picking out the biggest, flattest rocks — I could cross with relative ease.

So, a few too many ankle turns later, we were stood by the sea. The little pulses of movement we’d seen from our bedroom window seemed a lot more like actual waves once we got there. The tide pulled back against the rocks and rattled them in that beautiful, xylophonic way. They sang like cold teeth.

Confidence can be pretty fickle when you’re faced with an incalculable mass of moving water.

We stood for five, maybe 10, minutes and watched the rise and fall of the swell. There were quiet patches and big gushing moments of force. Bex picked a moment to run in and dip, shocked by the shallow depth and uneasy with the pull of the tide. I sat back, kept watching. She got out and said she hadn’t felt so safe. We walked back home and didn't turn our ankles.

Slow down guide

Need a little help moving slower?

Ease your way out of Friday afternoon with this newsletter, a nice cup of something, and a little background music. Steal my setup if you aren't sure where to start.

After I press send, I’m going to be firing up the Clever Dripper (I'd missed this beauty whilst away — one of the downsides of minimal packing) and chucking in some of Crediton Coffee Company's Guatemala Finca San Lorenzo roast. It's not available on their online store, but there's a couple of others available. It's nice and classic—big, bold flavour. A bit jammy, a bit chocolatey.

Palace are one of those bands that I always listen to, song-by-song, but never sit with and really dig into. I’ve no idea why. They’re incredible — soaring and atmospheric, deep and brooding, like early Coldplay filtered through a couple of Foals albums and channeled through Hozier. And if that’s not enough, their album artwork is stunning. So, yeah, I decided to change that and sit with their latest album (Shoals) in full. It’s bloody good. Take Give Me the Rain for a spin if you want to hear a track from this album or, if you want to try the song that first got me into them, give Live Well a few minutes of your time.

Take it easy,