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Keep your face to the sunshine
and shadows will fall behind you. -- Walt Whitman

The Beach by Jeff Price

On a  crisp spring morning with a chill wind biting from the east

My Daughter and I walk along the sands from Alnmouth to Craster

In the distance two dogs compete to catch a single tennis ball

Shimmering silver waves chase the Oyster Catchers from the foreshore

Above, on the dunes the wind whispers through the Couch Grass

She pulls her hood over her ears and stuffs her hands deep into her pockets

Here every Season has its gifts and every step its surprises




We talk of past mistakes and undecided tomorrows

She interrupts her own thoughts and looks along the empty beach

"Wouldn't it wonderful" She muses " if the sun had some heat

And our summers were longer than a few tepid days."




"Imagine such a future" I tell her

"The beach huts become skyscraper hotels

We would be weaving through rows of plastic loungers

Music blasting out from beach side bars

In the artificial harbour luxury yachts would linger

Dunstanburgh Castle would become a theme park"




We walk further in silence, past the wind battered beach huts defiant on the dunes

Through a narrow neck of rock a lonely fishing boat navigates the choppy water

Kipper smoke drifts on the breeze and we offer up a silent thanks to the Baltic Gods


The Linnets Wings