Sunshine licked my window pane, I thought: "The beach! The boys!" But the beach had other plans. Fretful fingers crawled out from the sea into my yesterday, across the sand, reaching for the marram grass to pull themselves, safe, on to land. Cloud curtained the castle as if a wild-eyed illusionist had swirled a gold silk lined cape and said: "Voila! Join me after the advertisement and I shall make the Eiffel Tower disappear and reappear in this snow globe." Close-up of an empty snow-globe.
Sandy families havered, hovering behind their turquoise plastic windbreaks as foggy walls walked across the beach to join them at their picnicking. Go; they moved whole. Stay; they watched their legs painted out in a white wash. I looked for the Lord or a long since gone loved one to come through the mist and smile at me, hold out a hand and with the other, gesture to the fog. I thought: "Am I dead? Is this how death will be? A swirling knee high mist and clammy chill? A feeling, somehow, somewhere, the day went astray?" I could not see the robed Lord; decided the departed could wait a while more.I gathered up wet suited boys, tight tethering me to this world, reached for their hands instead, and said: "Let's go home."