Blurred was the Beach world. Blurred was my vision. My eyes half blinded from looking into the hazy sunlight. Looking over the peninsula covered by veils of damp, salty sand rushes, I saw all those Sailing Moons, moving up and down over the laguna lake. The Boreas blowing fiercely. And in my back a wild and rough surf full of splashing tumblers. Ridden by more daring kite surfers. Young bathers venturing forward into the permanent tearing, pushing and catching of forceful waves. A strange experience on this otherwise so lazy part of the beach.

So indeed, we got a Pale Sun today. But a Cool Breeze, no. On the contrary, here we were almost blown apart by untempered Northern Winds, not cold or cool but lukewarm. Very unusual for Old Boreas. But together with the raging surf waves He was making his own jolly Party. Which I joined for not too long...being tossed over, pushed under and smashed to the bottom. Out of breath I left that rough Low Tide Tumble Party, reminding my limits. I don’t need to compete with the younger ones any more. Enough salty saltos for today, I say.

On a mid-season day with a rough sea, there will be plenty of life-guards present, you would think. But apart from one surveillance car driving around the peninsula, no further life-guards were watching the many youngsters in their daring play. Some parents stood on watch, but you need professionals for saving kids going to far. Mischa and Willemien told me that All Units were doing their joined training operation more to the North. A weird kind of mixing up training schemes with necessary practice. But who am I? I come, see, walk, swim and go again. Like a Seabird skimming over the dunes, turning at the surf, diving and then flying back to Somewhere. Gone with the Wind.