There was sparkliness to a superlative degree;
a reminder of the past lent luxury to the present;
the beaches were only large enough to admit a few very good friends.
Which to choose? Sunny or sandy? Stony or shady?
We side-stepped along the narrow umbrageous cavern of the sea wall, where the First Unofficial Paddle of the year took place.
Emerging on a tiny beach, the damp shoes reposed
while the First Official Paddle was instigated.
I crept in up to my knees to listen more closely as the seaweed on the groyne chimed and tinkled secretively.
Some significant textiles lost their integrity in an unscheduled and sudden manner. Mem: it wasn’t me. Some of the photos belong to the guilty party. We directed our rigid digits homeward.