Monday, 5 July 2010

Morning walk, Druridge Bay

Min wants the children to attend the interment.

I wonder about that. Squirrel is in party best, with blown red roses and lace white shoes with frills on her ankle socks. Tiger is wrapped around in pink silk and satin. Shark wears blowsy blue with gathers and crinkles all askew to match her tangled hair.

To spare them, save them from odd inquiring glances, I wear neutral negative; beige, or stone, or brown-grey-white, call it what you will.

We're not in black. Children busting with life don't wear black, and I can't ask them to take it on. I'll let them discover it, along with goths and eye-liner in the teenage years, and let them think they found it by themselves.

Maybe Min likes it this way. Maybe she doesn't notice. Maybe she sees, and is glad for children to be children; party dressed.

Then for today, no cold, neat-cut clay. But sprinkling sands, wind washed dunes, and sea breathing on perfect shorelines.