Friday, 27 November 2015
In the tide line, the driftwood lays on the golden sand . Empty mussel shells lay half broken on the shimmering sand . The long line of fading footprints sinking in hot sand lay in the sun . The waves are are huge sinking into the sparkling hot sand . small birds flutter though the howling wind it is a midsummers day
for slowly walking though the sinking cold water or lying on the boiling hot sand relaxing the whole day away.