The Abbey

I spent ages on the beach today.  I went dressed and booted for the weather and the terrain.  I saw lots of pretty little ringed plovers dipping and running along the sand.  I went across to the old ruins of an Abbey.  There were gravestones and graves inside the building which I found very strange.  I spoke to two guys in tin hats who are involved in the process of overseeing the restoration of the abbey.  They told me a little bit of history.  The Skelligs, which are the two jagged islands off the coast were once the last habitation in the known world before heading out into the vastness of the Atlantic.  The monks who inhabited them at the time moved from the Skelligs to this Abbey.  Nobody lives on the Skelligs now apart from thousands of gannets and other seabirds who nest there.  On the way back I drew thin, creamy silk seaweed, torn and shredded and weathered by the salt water.  The beach smelt of tar and pungent salt-rotting seaweed.


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