10th August
The heavy, hot air spills up from the beach below. It brings with it the steady hum of beach goers. The sea manages enough of a swell to give children waves to jump about in. The air is still fresh enough but it is too hot to remain out in the direct sun for more than a few moments. Every piece of shade is taken up. Occasional bird song burst from the bushes. The white grass seems to be even more sparse and begins to have the feel of a desert. Among the various styles of lamposts that edge the paths are two that are decorated with Art Deco date palm motifs and would appear to be originals from the 1920s or thirties. They look especially appropriate today.
From 10th August 10th 2021
One of the few days so far this year that's promised summer. Warm sun and a blue sky. A breeze gets up over the afternoon and the sea ruffles up but still ideal for a swim. Until Clare steps on a weever fish. I've talked about them before, little monsters that bury themselves in the sand in the shallows and which become common during late summer at low tide. Step on one and you have a few minutes before the excrutiating pain kicks in. The treatment is to get the affected area in as hot water as you can stand for half an hour. The heat neutralises the poison. So our swim ends with me running up and down the prom shouting to beach hut owners for anyone who has a kettle on the boil. There usually are kind people and there were today. Poor Clare. And tough on the poor weever fish that got stood on.
From 10th August 2019
For a few minutes the sun breaks through with a wan, lemony light. The green oily bulk of the sea hurls itself at the land like an angry, inconsolable toddler in an uncontrolled fury. The spume and spindrift carry high up the beach while the water twists into a white turmoil. On the clifftop the trees, dressed in full summer leafage take the brunt of the raging wind. Along the beach a lifeguard struggles with a great red flag that streams out above and behind him. For a brief time he struggles to plant it in the swirling sand. He becomes a character from a lesser known epic by Eisentsein in which one man pits his strength against the overwhelming, unheeding might of Climate Change.
From August 10th 2011
The sea looks silver in the milky morning light. The sun is brilliant and the air is still. I think I'll chance it.
