After everything, there’s the beach….and beautiful wise words


beach comber beach

She went down to the beach today. The tide flowed out to lay bare the North Sea floor and higher up on the firm wet sand, lay the tumbled gems she came to find.
From afar, the woman is a figure in a purple hat and a long coat wearing floppy pink sandals as she bends again and again grubbing and snatching to examine the smooth bits of green and white glass; then perhaps the surprise of a blue chip or two.
She tucks them in her coat pockets and wipes the sand from her fingers. She looks up as a pied puppy makes a mad dash for her, crashes into her legs then charges around her and bullets off again towards his master’s voice. She observes his exhilaration at being a puppy. She bends again; knows her muscles may ache tomorrow.
She is a pickpocket; filching, stealing, raiding the…

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