I am about to step on to one of the marvels of the earth. It’s a living example of constant motion and it’s known as a beach. The tides, the surf and the winds change its appearance every moment.
I’m here in winter and the gentle waves of summer have been replaced by the wear-away storm waves of winter. The entire summer beach has disappeared. The storm waves have carried away the sand and it will now rest offshore until spring when an army of small waves will begin to rebuild the beach by carrying every sand grain back onto the shore.
The broad flat beach of summer has given way to a stark narrow ridge of sand where large rocks, like stranded whales, lay all around. Who put them here? They seem too heavy to be lifted by surf and tides. This just shows how harsh the storms and the habitat can be. No one could live here permanently, but I could be wrong.
On closer examination I see a platoon of little crabs scurrying across in front of me to quickly bury themselves in the sand. They have made good their escape from the drying wind, the spray and my size 10 gym shoe. Tiny female sand flies, ready to suck a blood meal for the sake of their next generation, hover over a line of decaying seaweed twisted through the carcass of a dead fish. The entire foreshore is just teeming with life. I could spend hours here it is so interesting.
Some would say that there is no greater pleasure than to walk a deserted beach on a cold, sunny day in winter and I’m inclined to agree with them however the best beach I like is a topless beach.