Friday, 1 May 2020: What do you call a group of Wind-Surfers?

What do they call a group of wind-surfers?


I’ve wondered this today, watching them spin and dance on the first cold day of Autumn


A collection?
A company?
A gust?
A swirl?
Maybe a freedom of wind-surfers?
A glide of them all?

I sit on the grass for a moment to watch them, my take-away coffee in hand

I can barely hear my thoughts over the wind howling and whipping the waves

but the sun is on my face on this Friday, the first day of May

and right now, all is well

the drama of the waves

the suspense when the kites come close to one another

the gasps of the moments they are lifted from the surf to fly

I am constantly astounded at the moment by all the ordinary beauties
I am arrested daily by the sunset
Last night we stopped for moments and watched the lightning in the distance like it was the first time we’d seen it
I’m seeing butterflies everywhere
In these strange and historic times, it’s truly all the little things that stop me in my tracks
I’ve read poems of old that are brand new again, interrupting my days to read sentences aloud just to have them spoken into the world
Each time I make fresh pasta, I want to take a photo and show it to my Mum - as though I’m a child with a finger-painting
’Look what I created?’ the photo says. ‘Look what I have learnt’


A few nights ago, I put on a playlist and danced across the living room floor for an hour till my skin glowed with sweat and my eyes felt wide and bright
Have you re-listened to old songs lately?
Do it! I promise they’ll be more magnificent than you could have remembered.

I don’t know how the world will be at the unlocking of all this
I want to believe that it could be the making of us all
Or maybe just the making of parts of us

The pasta-making, dance-party, butterfly watching, wind-surfing parts of us
the creative parts of us
the wholesome parts of us

That is what I’m interested in now.
Show me the beauty in the things you are experiencing

the good and the bad

the pretty and the ugly

Tell me how they’ve moved you
how your ordinary has become your extraordinary

because I promise you, it has.

Because really aren’t we all really just surfing the wind at the moment?

A collection?
A company?
A gust?
A swirl?
Maybe a freedom of wind-surfers?
A glide of us all?