ON THE BEACH

we walked against the stormy wind to the south first, Piet Hein and I. Would I call it a struggle? Perhaps, yes, but then what do I love this kind of weather, so very much dutch all together. Not that there were many people walking, one or two and in the far distance several persons. Even a kite surfer we saw on the waves, a dangerous thing to do, I think, unless one is so skilled, or wants to develop his/her skills further.
On the return it was a hilarious feeling, no sand possibly blowing into our eyes, we had a swift pace, longing to go home and drink tea.
Even now, in the evening, the sound of the wind around our block impresses me enormously. It is foreseen that in the night it will be less.

My haiku:

There is the limit
Of what is still safe, dead gull
Half buried in the sand

And the proverb from Shelley:

That sweet sleep which medicines all pain.