The weather’s variable …


Wearing a fleece.


Brave souls huddle behind the sea wall slurping ice-creams. A hungry wind snatches a little boy’s chips. Shouldn’t smile, but what a face! Anorak hoods pulled tight, hands stuffed in pockets, toughies exposing bare arms and legs.

A man tell his friends,
“This is the cleanest beach in England.”   Blackpool South is proudly flying a Blue Flag.
He asks me to take a phone-photo with Blackpool Tower in the background.
“He’s a foreigner,” and points to his mate.
“Where from?”
That’s foreign – it’s the Midlands!

It’s too windy for the Big One to snake it’s course, but the big bungee ride on South Pier is not afraid of the wind. It’s in full flight and my tum flips a turn just watching.

White horses cavort on the sea.  Gulls effortlessly ride the gusts. Kiteboarders show off their prowess.

The weather’s variable …. so sang Magazine back in 1981. A fitting number to hum on a stroll along the prom. Not just today, but every day. The joy of the challenges of unseasonal weather. What to wear? Should I stay or should I go? Thanks Clash, there’s another apt hum along.

I’ll go. Dig out those old LPs, enjoy a nice hot cuppa, and hope it’s summer tomorrow.


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