The Last Day of Summer
A chill breeze steals the warmth from the sunless day; insidious in its demand for attention.
“Summer’s gone, summer’s dead” seems to be the soft whisper of the breeze, heard beneath the cheerful banter of the last visitors and the ever optimistic drone of ‘Hey Baby’ from the stereo.
Chocolate Surprise Sundaes are rejected in favour of Treacle Sponge and Custard as the day succumbs to the breeze and the chill reaches beyond the beach, past the paseo and slips into the sheltered confines of the terrace. Tugging at turned up collars, denied by the jeans that have replaced shorts, only discarded serviettes paying it scant attention.
Remnants of summer linger, forlorn dog-eared flyers drift into corners of car parks, carelessly discarded ice-cream wrappers blowing like tumbleweed, assisted by that oh so insistent chill breeze; determined to push summer away.
Back out, across the paseo, beyond the beach, the sea joins in the sombre mood of the day. Gone is the blue sparkling light dancing off the waves, replaced with an angry churning grey, like unpolished steel, crashing onto the beach with murky grey breakers.
But far, far out to sea a tiny break in the clouds allows a glimmer of sunlight to trickle through. A tiny ray of hope on the distant horizon.
