Picking up plastic litter on the beach as "therapy" (and a necessity)
Living by the sea in Whitstable has been a blessing throughout the pandemic. Being able to walk along the beach always makes me feel better and invigorated. Seeing the wide, open space of water and mudflats that change each day is a constant source of joy. I have started to recognise the patterns of bird species depending on the tide. If walking wasn't enough, becoming a winter "cold-water swimmer" has given me a deeper connection with the wildlife and the chilly sea. Each time I swim, I'm sure the same black-headed gull looks at me from his perch with slight amusement and recognition. Last weekend, I popped out for an hour to pick up some last shreds of plastic waste that I had spotted while walking on West Beach. With wellies on, wrapped up against the bitter wind and damp air, I was shocked and dismayed to see how much plastic was on the beach. I have been part of a monthly community beach clean here for over a decade, so I intimately know about rubbish on