When strolling the seafront one evening, the silence of the beach caused memories to spring into view.
Whisks of feelings tantalised till they became important to renew.
The Punch and Judy shows, the first donkey pat and ride.
The memory of candy floss and toffee apples almost produces taste again inside.
As I stretch my imagination to hear once again children’s laughter and cries.
Games of bat and ball were arranged and with bucket and spade there soon appeared rows of sand pies.
Sandwiches homemade with cakes to follow tasted so much better with a light touch of sand.
The calls of, ‘please I am thirsty can I have a drink?‘
Out of the bag would appear bottles of orange juice, sarsaparilla for us children, and flasks of hot tea for appreciative adults to consume.
Books appeared and sunglasses as well, for a cosy read or a mystery to solve.
The sun was a pleasure or a curse, on the skin so recently exposed, as umbrellas were erected in colourful profusion trying hard to protect.
Sometimes they were flung into comical confusion, when a strong wind blew we did not expect.
Some I remembered rolled along the sand escaping rescuing hands. To ride upside-down out to sea, to a future totally unplanned.
At the end of the day tired children, very reluctantly left the sand. Trailing buckets, spades and wet costumes holding a parent’s hand.
As the local brass band played it’s final tune, packed up and left the bandstand.
Oh they were days to remember simple it is true, many friendships and romances started on the shifting sand.
I drew my coat around me a bit firmer and turned my back on the sea, taking all the revived memories back home with me.
© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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