On an autumn morning that was turning out far hotter than advertised I walked along Boscombe beach front worrying about Commando. He was running his first marathon. So far the Boscombe beach huts had been disappointing but, just before Boscombe pier, they became slightly more colourful and behind them some fetching metal screens festoned with seagulls made up for any shortfall. Continue reading Beach huts and fat squirrels – first published 6 October 2013
13 March 2016
Eventually I managed to tear CJ away from the squirrels but this had more to do with running out of nuts than any desire on his part to walk along the shore. Walking beside the sea feels like food for the soul to me and the beaches on this part of the Dorset coast have fine golden sand rather than the crunchy shingle of my own shore. It may still have been too cold for paddling or walking barefoot with waves lapping at our toes but the smell of the salt and the sound of those waves made my heart sing. Continue reading Between the piers