Magical Colours of Summer

Though Summer may not be my favourite season, it is still full of magic,
I just have to look for it harder than I do in Autumn and Winter.
In the spirit of embracing Summer, I’m discovering its charm…

Summer’s colours are bright and bold, though the ones that enchant me are its blues and softer tones. For me the colour of summer is blue, linked intrinsically to water and clear skies. The sea sparkles with jewel tones. Two years ago we stayed on the north coast of Scotland and visited the most beautiful beach we’ve ever found, and I described the ocean with gem colours: White sand ran from the dunes to the sparkling water, and what water! It merged from every green to every blue you could imagine…from crystal white Quartz froth, to pale Amazonite, and Adventurine, then to Turquoise, and rich Apatite blue, before darkening to the tone of Sodalite. An ocean of jewels!

The sea changes from moment to moment and from seafoam green, to teal blue, to slate grey and myriad more colours. These are my summer tones.

I love how Brighton and Hove’s ocean switches from green to blue by the West Pier. Swgd Eira’s tumultuous waterfall crashes amid diamonds of water and light. Teal-green sea rolls in at Penbryn beach. You can find every blue and green in the sea froth at Staffa. Coldbackie’s jewelled colours spread across the tide. Green is the colour beneath the loch in the Kyle of Lochalsh and in the Isle of Skye’s Fairy Pools. I love the pebbles at Applecross and the blues and greens of Bosherston beach.

© Lisa Shambrook

Then nature and light pick up summer vibes. Early evening sunlight shimmering through cow parsley is pure magic. Summer light sinking through the pines in Brechfa forest creates enchantment within the trees and across the moss. The sun beams from behind the clouds, glistening light can touch on unicorns and shine on daisies. Water sparkles, and late evening castle reflections at Eileen Donan Castle bewitch you. The slate-blue loch at Kylerhea is surrounded by summer’s lush green.

© Lisa Shambrook

Summer then speaks of roses, figuratively and literally, and the pinks of watermelon and bronze sunsets. I’ve sat on Brighton beach watching the sun sink down beneath the horizon, and got up early to witness the sunrise on Dartmoor, and walked the dog through late evening scarlet dusks. Roses bloom with scents and colour: Rhapsody in Blue, and Audrey Wilcox’s blush pink. Purple foxgloves fill the forests, and Sarah Bernhardt peonies, their petals the colour of strawberry milkshakes, flourish.

© Lisa Shambrook

I wear different bracelets in each season; this one representing winter to summer looks great in the hottest season – keeping me cool with its frosty white beads, dark night indigoes, leading to summer sunshine with lemon amber. Strawberries are always a summer favourite, and the flowers that bloom in June and July – lavender, the arum lily, and nigella – love-in-a-mist fill my yard tubs. Butterflies and dragonflies flutter by and my favourite is the peacock butterfly. Waterfalls and messing about in rivers will cool you, and rainbows light up the sky in summer showers.

© Lisa Shambrook

I usually spend summer berating the heat and counting the days ‘til autumn,
but I’m trying to embrace the warmth of the summer sun…

What are your favourite things about Summer?

Where does the Beach take you?

It’s turning into beach weather here in the UK…
though, in my opinion, all year is beach weather for me.
I love wandering a lonely, cold, winter beach as much as
paddling through the surf on a warm, summer evening.
But what entices you to the ocean, what floats your boat?

Is it the heat, the sun, and the chance to sunbathe, or family time and BBQs, building sandcastles, and jumping waves, or do you prefer to explore, climb rocks, and appreciate the beauty?

Do you enjoy the sounds of the ocean rolling across pebble beaches? I grew up in Brighton, and the sound of the sea turning pebbles brings back all kinds of memories.
I adore walking barefoot over sand, and letting the surf lap across my feet, so the gorgeous West Wales beaches, where I live now, fit me perfectly…

© Lisa Shambrook

Do you like the flora that thrives in the salty air, and the seaweed decorating the beaches? I have a weird penchant for wearing seaweed hairpieces…

© Lisa Shambrook

Do you collect shells, do you search out conch, mussels, and pretty shells, and do you put them to your ear to hear the sea? Do you listen to the shrieking gulls with pleasure or irritation?

© Lisa Shambrook

And speaking of irritation, do you feel compelled to share your chips with the local birds? Fish n’ chips on the beach can’t be beaten! Do you sit on the beach with can of coke and newspaper wrapped chips and watch the sunset? Do you embrace your loved one as the sun disappears below the horizon in a fiery ball and the stars begin to sparkle?

© Lisa Shambrook

Do you love your feet in the ocean, do you paddle or dive right in? On the hottest days, dunking beneath the waves can be refreshing and invigorating.
Or do you prefer to sunbathe, lying on the beach worshipping the sun, or do you take a book and lose yourself in stories?

© Lisa Shambrook

Are you one of the lucky ones who can surf the waves – either on a board, or in a boat? Can you relax on board and let the ocean rise and fall beneath you?

© Lisa Shambrook

Do you love to explore, to climb the rocks, dive from cliffs, build dens, and get creative? Do you take photoshoots of mermaids, dystopia, and conquer pirates?

© Lisa Shambrook

Are sandcastles your thing? Are you an architect of the golden grains? Do you build turrets, and moats, and make lolly stick flag poles? Do you sculpt the sand to your every whim, designing and creating with imagination and the salty breeze? Can you build towers of pebbles, balancing in an ever more intricate game of Jenga?

© Lisa Shambrook

The Palace Pier, now the Brighton Pier – though I can’t ever call it that – was a haunt for my childhood self, walking along the wooden timbers watching the green sea swell beneath me, feeling the ocean in my hair.
Do you search for lonely bays, lost coves, quiet havens, and romantic harbours? Do you walk from one end of the beach to the other, kicking through the rippling waves?

© Lisa Shambrook

Or are you like me, as long as my feet are in the water, I let the siren call of the ocean beguile me, and I lose myself in the beauty of the sea?

© Lisa Shambrook

What is it for you? What draws you to the beach, to the salty sea?

What entices you to the ocean?

Blues Buster: Drift

© Lisa Shambrook

Water lapped, slapping the sides of the little boat, and Joe’s oars slipped from his fingers. The ocean, glistening black like treacle, swallowed them without regret. Joe stared, wide-eyed, into the darkness, his pupils dilating as his jaw slackened. Wisps of fog curled about the debris floating on the surface and he gulped as white swirls caressed the drifting scum.

The moon peered through the mist for a moment, illuminating rainbows of oil atop the water, until the gloomy clouds closed rank and Joe was lost again, a single soul in a tiny boat.

He refused to look behind, refused to acknowledge the final flickering flames that sank lower and lower, fading into the night and into the hungry sea, but the wails, that had been vanquished hours ago, still echoed inside his head.

He rubbed his greasy hands, trying to find a spark of warmth, but the cold that had stolen his oars, stole his fingers and then his hands and goose-bumps sent chatters through his teeth. His head shook with cold, and with insanity, and his last grasp on reality slipped away.

He shook his head, trying to evade the demons that swam through his mind, and squinted. Swirls of fog danced across the waves, imitating white horses, but the sea was too still for waves. The hazy spectres waltzed and whirled atop the flotsam and jetsam, and Joe shivered.

A hefty piece of driftwood clunked against the little boat and Joe jumped, and the scars on his heart tore just a little wider as the little boat rocked.

Ghosts reached out to him, white, watery fingers extended and beckoning. Joe sank back, flinching, as the wisps curled about his little boat. Oily streaks ran down his face as terror invaded his head. He huddled down, trying to hide behind a barrel and between a chest and a sack of provisions. The cold fog spread wide and behind him fingers gripped his soaked jacket, tugging and wrenching at his body.

Joe stared wildly about him, slipping out of his sodden coat, and wriggling free of the arms that tried to capture him. He was too crazed to see the fingers were just gusts of icy wind, and he stood, grabbing the chest from the floor of his tiny boat. It took but a moment for the wind to seize its chance and the waves, and debris and driftwood flooded the boat. Joe tumbled into the grasping arms of the sea.

The silent ocean took the renegade fire-starter and dragged both him and the treasure down into its depths, where the ghosts of the recently drowned could finally reap retribution.

(441 Words)

A little something for the last Blues Buster for a bit over at The Tsuruoka Files, for the prompt song:  The Turkish Song of the Damned by The Pogues.

Rebirth: Resurgence

My second tale of rebirth for J.A.Mes Press Rebirth Anthology. All proceeds will go to a UK Stroke Charity.

Title: Resurgence
Author: Lisa Shambrook
Book: Yes

Ocean Girl © Lisa Shambrook (All Rights Reserved)

Resurgence

Alice went to the beach with one intention.

Not to return.

Her heart thudded painfully, constricting inside her chest, as she walked. She pulled at her soft cotton cardigan sleeve, tugging threads, watching as the slight strands drifted away on the breeze. She sniffed, remembering his scowl, and hurriedly wiped away tears as she approached the dune. She stood atop the shifting sands, amid tall wiry grass, and stared at the sea for a moment letting the breeze lift her hair from her face.

She dropped to her knee and untied her trainers, kicking them off and leaving them behind, just as he’d done to her. She stepped forward, barefoot. Her toes wriggled as hot sand trickled through them, raising a momentary smile, but her vision blurred again as her bottom lip trembled, her tiny cry of despair drowned by the cackling seagulls down by the shore.

The breeze picked up, as did her pace, wafting her skirts around her legs, the gossamer material fluttering like butterflies against her skin. She stopped and hugged her arms to her chest shivering despite the heat of the late sun. Her shoulders shuddered as silent sobs built, rising in her throat, fighting for release, but she pushed them down and tilted her head. The sun’s rays kissed her closed eyelids and dried the tracks of her tears. Alice opened her eyes, lowering her face, gazing across the empty beach. Miles of sand stretched either side of her and her arms dropped to her side.

Her cotton dress floated about her as she shrugged out of her cardigan and let it fall to the sand at her feet. The breeze rolled across her bare shoulders and the material rippled across her breast and stomach. She instinctively brushed her dress down, her fingers lightly smoothing over her chest and lingering at her belly.

The ocean rolled in, wave after wave, never ending, and she tightened her resolve with a deep sigh.

She stumbled towards the shore kicking up clouds of sand that swept across the beach behind her. Her legs, now heavy and awkward, propelled her on across the tide line, across the mounds of wet seaweed, and the sand firmed beneath her toes. She jogged, her feet slapping the glaze of water, wet sand splashing up her legs and tears welling again behind red eyes. The waves ebbed and flowed, the gentle rhythm matching the leaden beat of her heart, as she waded into the sea.

She stopped again, the water lapping at her ankles and closed her eyes, allowing the gentle gusts of wind to caress her face, one last pleasantry, and she tried to calm her hammering heart. She braced, inhaling the ocean air, tasting the salt tracing her lips. She listened to her grief, to her despair and stepped forward.

A squeal of delight startled her and her eyes fluttered open as a young girl raced past, plunging into the water. The girl ran, giggling as she leaped over waves. The girl hitched up her shorts, already splash darkened, and stopped.

Knee-deep, Alice watched as the small girl in the orange shirt threw out her arms with abandon and turned her face towards the glorious evening sun, enjoying the simple delight of waves dancing around her legs, wind on her arms and the warmth of the sun on her face.

Alice felt tears spill as she backed out of the water. Her heart hammered and knots of tension loosed. Goosebumps erupted from head to toe and she sank to the wet sand, her hands trembling as the surf gently embraced her. She watched the blur of orange and denim and newfound innocence engulfed her. Her eyes shone as a slow smile curved and shaky laughter rippled from her lips, and her fingers trailed, tenderly, across her newly rounded stomach.

(638 Words)

 

Selkies and the Emerald Isle: Sophie Moss Cover Reveal and Giveaway

I am so excited to help Sophie Moss celebrate St Patrick’s Day with her beautiful trilogy…I have read the first two wonderful books and got totally lost in tales of love and mystery set upon Seal Island, if you haven’t already read these, I highly recommend them to you… I can’t wait to read The Selkie Sorceress…

Upcoming Release: The Selkie Sorceress (Seal Island Trilogy, Book Three)

Author: Sophie Moss

Genre: Irish Fairy Tale/Fantasy Romance

Release Date: April 25, 2013

Book Designers: Blue Harvest Creative

The Seal Island Trilogy has a brand new look!

The Selkie Spell is on sale for FREE from March 15-19th

The Selkie Enchantress is on sale for 99 cents from March 15-19th

The Selkie Sorceress will be available on April 25th!

Book Description:

American detective, Sam Holt, has a knack for finding people who shouldn’t be found. When his last case almost killed an innocent woman, he swore off detective work forever. But when that same woman asks him for one last investigation–to find her husband’s long lost mother–Sam cannot refuse. Sam hopes this case will prove to everyone on Seal Island, especially clairvoyant artist Glenna McClure, that he has changed. But what Sam doesn’t realize is that the closer he gets to the truth, the more danger Glenna is in.

Glenna will do anything to stop Sam from finding this woman, even if it means teaming up with a powerful sorceress she knows she cannot trust. But when the petals of a mysterious night-blooming rose begin to turn black, Glenna realizes an even darker force is at work. To protect the island and the people she loves, Glenna will have to face a terrible curse that has haunted her all her life before the final petal fades to ash.

Sophie Moss ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

To celebrate The Selkie Sorceress being almost here, Sophie is offering a HUGE giveaway this weekend! In addition to reducing the prices of The Selkie Spell (FREE) and The Selkie Enchantress (99cents) from March 15-19th, she is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Here are the UK links: March 15th – 19th…

Selkie Spell – Sophie Moss (Free)

Selkie Enchantress – Sophie Moss (£0.77)

Five Sentence Fiction: Abandoned

Photo by Lisa Shambrook www.flickr.com/photos/thelastkrystallos

The dinghy rocked, and she didn’t have enough energy to move her legs as they fused to the soft, scorching PVC sides, beneath the baking sun. She tried to prise open her salt-coated mouth to lick her lips, but her tongue stuck to her sandpaper lip and the cry that escaped was little more than a lost whimper.

The glare of the blazing, white fireball in the sky saturated her brain and silence screamed building slowly to a crescendo, until the noise was so loud the roaring filled her entire being.

A shadow passed over her and the little boat pitched wildly.

Fuzzy radio sounds and blips disturbed her delirium, and rough arms grabbed and dragged her, and she was lifted high, high into the sky beneath whirring rotor blades, and the dinghy was left, abandoned, amid the rolling waves.

Written for Lillie McFerrin’s amazing Five Sentence Fiction go check out the rest…

55 Words #41: Punishment

Source: www.publicdomainpictures.net feet in chains

Incoming tide reaches just about eight feet at its full height. I’m just over six foot and the chain’s slack is about two feet, give or take.
Survival is about numbers, strength and stamina.
They’ll all watch, but I’m fine with that.
Don’t feel bad, if you’d done what I did, this would be you.

(55 Words)

Written for Lisa McCourt Hollar’s 55 Word Challenge #41.

12 Days of Christmas: Sea

Day eight and we’re at the sea…

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)

Sea

Alice went to the beach with one intention.

Not to return.

She walked to the beach, wiping tears away as she approached the dunes, and stood for a moment as the breeze lifted her hair from her face. 

The ocean rolled in, wave after wave, never ending, and she tightened her resolve with a deep sigh.

 She knelt and untied her trainers, kicking them off and leaving them behind as she stepped, barefoot, across the soft, hot sand. 

Her toes wriggled and sand trickled through them, raising a momentary smile, but her legs, now heavy though single-minded, still propelled her towards the shore. The sand kicked up behind her and drifted across the dune, and her feet stepped across the tide line, across the mounds of wet seaweed, and the sand firmed beneath her toes.

She stopped and closed her eyes, allowing the gentle gusts of wind to caress her face, one last pleasantry…and she tried to calm her hammering heart. She braced and breathed in salty ocean air, tasting the salt tracing her lips. She listened to her brain, to her grief, to her despair and stepped forward. 

She opened her eyes as a young girl raced past.

The girl ran into the water, leaping over waves and giggling, she hitched up her shorts, already darkened by splashing water, and stopped. Alice watched as the girl in the orange shirt threw out her arms in abandon and turned her face towards the glorious evening sun, enjoying the simple delight of waves at her feet, wind on her arms and the warmth of the sun on her face.  

Alice sank to the wet sand, tears rolling down her cheeks, and a newfound innocence engulfed her, and her hand gently trailed across her newly rounded stomach.

(295 Words)

 A Jar of Fireflies 12 Days of Christmas

Day Eight: August – Sea

Read more…