You could easily get bored of this, unless it was your choice. Sitting day after day, in all weathers watching the tide come in and go out. Between April and September is when the Council think it’s busy, because that’s when they open the toilets, but really it’s busy all year, just the people are different between October and March.
Day after day you can watch the people. They come and they go, some together, others alone; Dog walkers, sun worshippers, some just taking the air. They all look at the huts, some look at me in mine, the candy striped one, with the porthole, for effect.
I’ve seen a lot, blossoming love, arguments, indifference and dispassion. The milk of human kindness and the scum of the earth, they all come here eventually. One day they won’t because it will be gone, reclaimed by the sea long after I’m gone. Just the tide coming in and going out.