Out by Raghly.

It's still early, only 9.30, but I've already been in the sea out by Raghly this morning. I left the house quietly just when the dawn light was prising open the night's cover of malevolent looking black clouds to reveal the pale milkiness above.

I cycled on out the empty road and enjoyed feeling the burn in the muscles of my legs as they started to heat up. It was bitterly cold at first but I rode through the trees and soon felt the warmth of their damp, rotting leaves that keeps the heat on the ground.

The harbour was deserted; there wasn't even anyone there to walk their dog. I left my bike against the wall and walked on over the field to the long beach and just kept going till I got to the rocks that hide the stretch of sand where I like to play on empty mornings like this.

Acres of clean, pale, smooth sand, acres of neutral sky and the sun waiting just beyond the horizon before making her entrance and painting the drab landscape with her colours.

I took the satisfying, agonising plunge and swam out as far as I knew was safe then back again and when I walked, wet and wakened back to the rocks, that was when the sun made her grand appearance, spilling yellow light over the beach and the fields and blessing my wet, energised body with new peace and confidence while I stood drying in the breeze that was coming off the sea and the vague warmth of the sun’s rays.

I got dressed and left to cycle home. Back at the house and with the taste of the sea still in my mouth, I hung washing on the line that I had put in the washing machine before I went out. I made tea and took it into the garden and only then did members of the family start to struggle out of bed and join the day, oblivious to what they'd missed.