Hot day, cool place

With much of Europe sizzling in the summer heat, and sun seekers on beaches in the south of England packed together like sardines, can Gail and I be forgiven for feeling a touch of Schadenfreude as we enjoy a refreshing ramble along the empty coastline in the northeast corner of Aberdeenshire? 

It matters not to me that there are no palm trees here, that our camera angles are carefully selected to exclude the St Fergus gas terminal complex to the south, and that the 25 mph wind makes the claim of 21ºC seem optimistic...

After exploring the dunes, I look across to the seashore and ascertain that social distancing will not be an issue hereabouts.

So I boldly venture onto the beach, where I soon discover that it is best to stand on the wet sand below the high tide mark, to avoid the grains of sand blowing in one's eyes. (Gail is tall enough not to have this problem), 

Who needs a holiday in the Caribbean?

That short precious while

You who live in sunny climes
Might think you have the best of times;
I beg to disagree.

If every day the skies are blue,
No clouds obscure the dazzling view,
There’s scant variety.

You’ll never feel the deep delight,
When dour grey turns to dazzling bright
For a short precious while.

The sense that duties, cares and grief
Can be forgot. And to the beach,
To run and bounce and smile!

(Verse inspired by an outing to St Combs, near Fraserburgh in the very far NE of Scotland, last Sunday.)

P.S. Bouncing Bertie Boffin here: Please do look out for my post on Thursday, when I shall be announcing a brand new and exciting science-related competition. Oh. Gail is disputing my description here, saying any connection with science is "tenuous at best". It is rather, (she claims),  "yet another invitation to all your doggie friends to poke fun in public at their human carers". I bet you can't wait...