British Beach Inspiration

Mumbles

Crashing  waves.

That’s  all  I  could  hear,  all  I  cared  about  hearing  anyway.  It  didn’t  matter  about  the  happy  cries  of  children  close  by,  or the  engines  of  motorbikes  roaring  so  crazily.  What  mattered  was  that  it  was  peaceful  amid  chaos.  It  was  a  juxtaposition  and  an  oxymoron  of  its  own  volition.

Seagulls  squawked,  swooning  by  and  diving  beak-first  into  cartons  of  chips  held  in  the  hands  of   onlookers.  Their  dinner strewn  across  the  ground;  a  free  for  all.

Crash.
Crash.
Crash.

Harmony,  as  nature  continued  its  marvellous  wonders.  Water  receded  up  and  down  the  sand,  leaving  its  beautiful  rippling pattern  in  the  gritty,  yellow  shore.

The  waves  curled  in  the  surf,  white  outlining  the  enticing  blue  water  as  it  trampled  forward.  Empty,  save  for  the  daring birds  sweeping  in.

Rocks,  weathered  by  nature,  created  the  most  natural  water  fountain  feature  as  the  sea  crashed  high,  splashing  the  surface  beneath  like droplets  of  rain.

The  sky  was  crystal  blue,  clear  of  any  clouds,  and  the  horizon  in  the  distance  met  the  sea  in  a  blurry  haze.  The  sun, warm  like  Summer,  beamed  upon  the  beach,  illuminating  its  heavenly  presence.

Happiness;  there  was  no  denying  a  smile  on  a  day  like  today.  Happy  weather,  happy  people,  happy  writing.

What  more  could  you  ask  for?

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