No matter how high I would roll up my trousers,
they always got soaked,
as the waves rolled ever inwards faster than I could run.

The colours of sunsets reflected on the sea
always take my breath away.

Sitting on a rug that was always covered in sand
despite my best efforts,
trying to read a book while the wind
turned the pages for me.

Sometimes the wildness of the sea
reflects the storm in my soul.

No matter the weather
we stuck out a day at the beach with layers of jumpers
and wind in our hair.

The whole family peering in rock pools
and squeeling with delight
when we saw movement.

Big sky, sun on the water, and the call of oystercatchers.

While my brothers were busy making amazing sandcastles,
I used to wander along the beach with my bucket,
for what seemed like miles,
looking for shells and other treasures
that had been washed up by the sea.
When I got back to my brothers,
I would then decorate their castles with my shells.