Summer beach

  July. The beach is a storm of people, their tanned bodies scattered across the sand already burnt from the sun’s poisonous glare. Sandcastles line the middle of the beach, like soldiers prepared for brutal battling, indifferent to the screaming children pacing around them.

       In the background the crowded high street is full of shoppers, and the shoppers are dashing in and out of the many odd little shops before racing each other back to the sandy floor. The parents’ noisy mutterings, children’s joyful squeals, squawking seagulls and swimmers splashes’ all greet me as I stroll down the beach. I watch the sun’s reflection glitter in the sea, showering the many swimmers in its sparkle.

       Waddling about in front of me, small children dash in and out through the maze of sandcastles, devouring their melting ice-cream in a dozen of small bites. By my feet litter lays, scattered across the floor in messy piles, left for some poor person to pick up later.

       I walk forward, pushing past the grumbling strangers and stepping over the lazy sun bathers and piles of litter, until I reach the sea. I remove my flip flops and let the tingly cold salty sea water drench them. To my right I spy a group of climbers shimming up the side of the rugged rocks. They pull on their ropes, pausing every now and then to make the important decision of where to place their feet, whilst I watch, a dot on their landscape, soaking its feet in the chilly waves beneath them.

      A welcoming gust of cool wind ruffles through my hair as I gaze at the magnificent sea, now oblivious to the wittering behind me. Swimmers cling on to their floats, fighting the waves that crash over them. Children run together into the sea, their armband wrapped tightly around their skin, like vibrant inflatable bracelets. Behind them, somewhere within the blur of the busy beach, I spot their parents watching them intently, as though they are a pair of hawks eyeing up their pray. Annoyed, the pair of hawks glide to a new spot to perch on the rocky wall, whilst the elderly couple crawl by, innocently munching on their vinegary fish and chips.

        I notice the fish and chip van parked behind the rugged rocks and my nose picks up the scent of the vinegar spread generously on another family’s chips. Another icy cool wave of the sea soaks my feet, distracting me from my sudden hunger. Straight ahead I watch the tourist boats cruising along the blue depths, its tiresome passengers pretending to be interested in the tour guide’s informative speech.

          Time passes quickly as I bathe my feet, dreaming vividly of magical mermaids and colourful fish. The sun lowers its position in the clear blue sky, a king retiring from his throne for another night, and I lift my feet out of the water and stroll back down the quieter beach, away from the sandy floor beneath me.

Winter Beach

           Cold scattered snow is all that greets me as I take a first few steps onto the crispy surface below me. Its cold white body lies in layers across the rocks and sand, like icing on a Christmas cake. There is not a murmur, no sign of life, as my eyes avert across the lonesome land. The grey sea waves at me as I continue forward, stumbling over the rocky ground. I reach out a greeting hand and shocked, quickly remove it, unsurprised but still stunned at its coldness. Layers of groggy unloved depths leer back at me, angry and confused by people’s strange reactions to it, like a once loved puppy scolded for growing into an old tiresome dog.   

              But the sea is not completely alone. Squinting far to my left I make out an approaching shadow. It moves drearily towards me, each step seemingly slower than the previous. In front of it a dog shaped shadow totters eagerly from left to right, its nose covered in snow from the icy floors.

            Fixated on the foggy shadows approaching me I watch, ignoring the angered sea. A short man with a bitter expression emerges from my left, clinching onto his fluttering coat. His dog totters on, oblivious to his owner and oblivious to the idea of manners as he licks my shoe. With a grunt of his owner the dog vanishes, leaving me alienated once again.

           The breeze of the wind is my only companion as I avert back to staring at the icy waves. I remember its coldness and imagine the summer swimmers attempting to glide through its icy waves. The dull skies cover the beach in a blanket of clouds, like your box of summer toys packed away, left simply to pick up the dust.

          Droplets of rain drip on the top of my head, whilst the rough sea crashes against the rocks, spluttering droplets of water over the nearby sand. Glancing around the wide open area, the muted colours and the desolate sea, the eeriness of the place hits me, like a hidden stone in a snowball, exploding with a crash.

           The loud silence bangs against my ear drums as the wind ruffles through my coat, a pickpocket desperate to find something worthy of stealing. I clamber over the sharp heavy rocks, heading back to my starting point, no longer feeling trapped in the miserable place. Droplets drip harder from the sky, wet tears evaporating into a scuffled tissue. My pace quickens as I step over the last few rocks. Behind me the lonely sea’s waves crash half-heartedly with disintegrating anger, as I continue forward, back to the harmless reality of the tarmac road. The sea’s waves ring in my ears, as it fades away, a forgotten friend drifting into the distance.