Beached

The whole extended family would go to the beach, Bigbury mostly, sometimes Challaborough or Bantham. 4 Uncles, 3 Aunts, 1 Nanny, Mum, 1 brother, a Step-dad, 9 kids, 2 dogs, several buckets, spades, thermos-flasks of sugary tea, limp cheese and tomato sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, Madeira cake and orange squash (already diluted and warm by the time we wanted to drink it) , all squished into 3-4 vehicles. Bigbury mostly, sometimes Challaborough or Bantham.

Treesie-Dawn

(time passes)

I love making footprints. I love looking at the traces of others. At a distance, dotted lines join up like dot-to-dot pictures, sketching out the journeys taken by mark-makers. The tide removes all traces, like the sideways swoosh of the magna-doodle (in my day an Etch-a-sketch) rubbing out the moment. The beach is wiped clean. A smooth surface replaces the ripples. The marriage between the sea and the shore creates a surface, a page, for new artists, new authors.

Teresa