Often when I go to the beach in the morning there is no one else around for miles, but every day is a little bit different. The waves don’t always look the same, the birds come and go and I see different things washed up on the sand.
Sometimes though things are really different. Like the other day! I wrote about it in this poem:
Not Every Day at the Beach Is the Same
The dog always waits for the surfer.
She lies on the sand and waits
as he rides the wave.
She never barks at our dogs.
Today she was in the water
freezing her paws off,
staring out to sea
as if she wanted to learn
to surf, or just get home
to chew her bone.
Three people come running
towards me, arms waving, and yelling
blue jacket yellow jacket red jacket.
Then their arms dropped.
‘We thought you were one of us,’
The dog is still waiting,
her paws must be frozen stiff.