On Aldeburgh Beach
A luminous light, filtered through stormy clouds, cast a golden gleam to the crest of crashing waves. The sounds were of seagulls, children in the distance and pebbles rolling over each other as they were drawn out to sea and pulled back again. It tastes of fish and chips and salty air. It smells of oysters, brine and seaweed, of old wood and impending rain.
A sixteenth-century fort and Tudor town, Aldeburgh remains an enchanting place for a day spent walking the chilly beach, gazing out to the sea.
I really can smell the brine and the oysters and the seaweed. And I can hear the gulls too. Your exuberant smile belies the turbulence in front of which you stand. An interesting juxtaposition.
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