Barbara Algie reflects on the people passing by

I hope you haven’t been making rash promises about writing x-number of words per day in the coming year.  My literary inspiration has gone down the gurgler, for I’ve found something much less energetic to be doing which is dodging pouring rain one minute and slapping on 30+ sunscreen the next.  Some would declare I was ‘wasting time’ whilst others, of a more sympathetic frame of mind, call it ‘gathering valuable information about men, women, kids and their best friends’ as I sit on a coastal walkway seat, where a heavy cloud arrives, gives up all hope of finding a mate and sends down a swift reminder that it pays to adopt the Boy Scouts’ Motto, even in summer.  

One or two hungry seagulls stamp their feet, demanding a share of my cold stew sandwich (yum) and the  high tide whispers ‘ssh’ as it gently laps the shore before slipping away with a soft sigh and returning to repeat itself.  I am very aware that a long distance from this shangri la there are people who, through no fault of their own, are in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Come to think of it that fellow Newton was one of ‘em but he was luckier than most and ended up with a  mere bump on the head. 

Watching the passing parade on the boardwalk I couldn’t help noticing the extraordinary resemblance which pets share with their owners – for instance -

 

There were fellas with jowls like snuffly bulldogs, large ladies resembling fat pooches
Dogs that were pantin’ and rantin on leads and others reluctant wee moochers
A tough guy in black with ferocious Rottweiler,  a fat Labrador’s dad the same gut
and some feline owners, when viewed from behind, had exactly the same shaped butt.

Maybe I’ll toddle off home after the next shower and file this invaluable information away somewhere but right now here comes the sun again and I’d rather not be disturbed thanks.  

Have a great 2014.

Big Al