One of the joys of life as a retiree is having the time to watch the tide come in. Pointless? Maybe. Time-wasting? Certainly. Enjoyable? Extremely.
At a different seaside, in another age, I would watch fascinated as the sea crept in. A moment’s distraction, and it has advanced further, while you’re not looking. Beautiful, relentless, magical. I loved it, as a child. There was neither time nor opportunity to do this during my working life, so it’s a particular delight to return to this simple childhood pleasure.
And it is every bit as pleasing now as it was then. That stealthy, inexorable creep of the water, ripple by ripple; parched seaweed clumps revived, and waving with joy at the return of the sea; little crabs and shrimps advancing happily as the sand is reclaimed and turned from land to seabed. Inch by inch, the beach being covered by the ocean…
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