A Trip to Tresco

One single solitary simple word, uplifting. I was apprehensive I admit. There has been an enormous investment on Tresco, the glossies have told us of a paradise isle, the luvvies have 'discovered' utopia, the posers have a unparallelled backdrop, the timeshare crew have their garden of Eden, would it's natural raw beauty have been smothered ?

As September days go this one was faultless. The pristine whitewashed cottages greet you at the quay, quaint signposts are slightly alarming, all in the best possible taste but....

I walk towards St.Nicholas church and I am instantly transported back to some of the happiest years of my life when I would push my first fair haired baby along in his pushchair. Blackberries glistening in the early dew of Autumn, large pale brown and yellow leaves leaving patterns on the road, a thrush hopping nervously in the hedgerows and a surprising feeling of space and light.

And then I spot 'real life', a splendid 1948 Massey Ferguson and any apprehension I may have felt instantly falls away. The organist is practising for an island wedding this weekend and the church is flooded with the organs sweet sound.  The florist from St.Martins is busily creating breathtaking bursts of glory. 'I used to drive one of those' I inform the elderly man and he steps forward and plonks a gentle kiss on my face. I seem to have inadvertently found the 'soul' and 'pulse' to the island and I am pleased.

I walk towards Cromwells Castle and King Charles Castle, I am alone, where is everyone ? I settle on a deserted New Grimsby Quay and witness a pair of rare birds swoop and dive in front of me. I know they are rare because I have never seen them before, as large as the Heron but rather more playful in the air. Afterwards I slowly collect pieces of pastel coloured glass whose edges have been smoothed by the endless tides and tumbling on the shore.

I head towards Appletree Bay and Pentle Bay via the perimeter of Tresco Abbey and Gardens whose delights I have to come back and savour another day. I see familiar landmarks and wish with all my heart the people who love them were here beside me. A shadow of sadness flickers briefly over me and I say a very hard prayer of thanks (again), that I am here.

 'You can't take a poor picture on Scilly' Toby's words always echoing beside me. I am merely taking the same shot's that fill my Fathers slide boxes, following in his sandy footsteps. 'Blessed is me' I think.

But I have my weakness's and can be easily led astray in the Ruin Beach Cafe.

Afterwards however I stand and ponder my strengths whilst the sun goes down.  Something we should all do and I come to the conclusion that I shall never again settle for second best.

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