The excitement of a trip is always fresh and bursting in a young child's mind. Disrupting their last few days at school. So imagine the perfect place with grainy, yellow sand that you are able to make sand castle out of. Where at the snap of your fingers you can struggle into your favorite salty life jacket, to feel the refreshing spray. To go out and paddle. To race from one end of the bay to the other. To go out to the point almost gliding over the dark, frothy bumps to collect mussels for dinner. With those dearest to you , your family and even your fluffy poodle. Spending your whole time soaking it in like you could be there for ever, until the day comes when you have to pack your sunscreen, togs and favorite doll. Until you have to leave your favorite place till next year.
Years go by and it barely changes, until not only your family and fluffy poodle but also your best friends family go! Just the thought was enough to get you jumping up and down. How could this not be better than ever? You're there like always, joking, playing, relaxing and spending all the time you can outside. Even when water droplets are streaming from dark, dark grey clouds. so when you aren't allowed outside because the water droplets aren't the same as normal and the road had transformed into a herd of raging bulls with boulders racing as far and fast as they can you are shocked and annoyed. The only thing to do is play cards and cook. When the whole place plunges into darkness. You know that it will be an early night. With fire cooked food eaten by the flickering candle light. Of course followed by the dessert of all the ice-cream you can eat before it melts.
When the sun rises and the water has calmed you eventually get up. Climbing out of your favorite sleeping bag, with the built in pillow. The air all fresh, crisp and calming, due to the windows already being open. The roughened wind having frightened away the straggling clouds. Leaving bright rays of light to stream in and hit your face. Looking down where it used to be deep blues and greens, filled with future dinners. Now. Unpleasant browns covering the bay right up to the final Willow tree stump. Not a spec of sand left uncovered or dry. Nothing looking or sounding how it once had. Almost every few meters there was an out of place something, a shoe, branch, boat or bench.
Slowly everything was moved and fixed up but it never returned to the Perfect Place. Not the one with grainy yellow sand you could make castles out of.
