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Why a small boy loved the beach

09/11/11 Posted by: Martin Day
Was there ever a child, like me, so happy?
The beach is one of my favourite places to be - it's the sounds of a breaking wave followed by pebbles tumbling back under the next one, or the distant roar of bigger surf carrying over a long flat sandy beach; it's the sun on my face and the soft, warm sand between my toes; it's the distant intensity of the horizon that stretches each way into my peripheral vision; it's the way the sounds of children playing and people talking seem close, yet distant at the same time, but somehow they don't intrude as the sun shines red through my closed eyelids.

Whilst reflecting on what makes the beach such a special place for me, the thought occurred that the best of the beach is not what it is, but what it isn't ... Picture this :

The sand is criss-crossed by ropes that form an orderly grid. Some of the plots have 'Reserved' signs in them - these are for the season ticket holders. Visitors are queuing back into the dunes waiting for the next 'day-plot' to become available, each one clutching a credit card ready to pay (family discounts are available). An official patrols
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