Just Sayin'

I was about to dive into the waves at Half Moon Beach when Autumn tapped me on the shoulder. Beware, a mellow voice said, the sea is much colder than it was yesterday; observe that it's not so blue now, and perhaps even saltier, and how the incoming tide harvests endless streams of black weed; the sun won't shine for as long today and the sand beneath your feet is no longer golden. Time to collapse the umbrella and fold up the loungers and those stripy towels. All you can hear is the sound of shells being crushed beneath sandaled feet as the refugees from summer disappear between the dunes. You should pack your stuff up too, the voice continued, but maybe come back tomorrow, well-wrapped up in a rain jacket and wearing boots and perhaps you could stand at the water's edge and write a poem if so inspired. Then Autumn laughed and kicked sand in my face. Never mind, it concluded, you looked pretty stupid in that straw fedora anyway and those round shades are the wrong shape for your face. You're too short for surfer board shorts and definitely too old for that punk rock pattern. You also might want to check out how much unwanted back hair is sprouting across your shoulders these days. Not a pretty sight, it must be said. Even the washed-up jellyfish don't want to see that. If I were you I'd consider investing in a full body wet-suit next year. You'd be doing everyone a favor. Actually, it would be for the best if you just remained sat on the benches by the parking lot, watching the sunset and remembering days of yore, instead of venturing down to the beach in all your scrawny, pasty-white glory.