A seaside tale.

Image the scene - a beach somewhere in England.

After a warm sunny day the sand is warm and dry and a number of sandcastles stand boldly enjoying their prime positions in the sun with their paper flages fluttering gaily in the increasing onshore wind.

However the tide has now turned and like a tide of public opinion the waves are advancing menacingly up the beach towards the sand castles.

This is not the longest day - these days are yet to come for many in this small seaside town.

No today is Friday 8th July 2011.

In its advance the tide has already destroyed one red topped castle which is now being merged into the greater expanse of sand along with its many pebbles and dependant hard working sand flies.

Nearby a tall red headed child has been ordered by her family to lie down in front of the families larger castle to try to defend its outer wall against the rushing waves. Right along the beach families are burying dirty nappies in order not to offend future visitors. Consequently bucket and spade sales are doing very well.

Like characters from " Alice in Wonderland" some peple have been buries up to their necks in the sand. They are all clearly aware of the incoming tide but continue to sing with gusto and in unison "Oh we do like to be beside the seaside" Around their necks are notices that seem to read:

DCMS, OFCOM, MP, SKY, and THE CITY. The city person seems to have been badly burnt some days earlier! A Lord from Weston-Super-Mare was expected but he was deatined a long time ago.

A limp piece of sea weed rolls gently back and forth on the edge of the sea gently sighing to itself - it to has a notice that reads PCC.

Off to one side a Punch and Judy show is in full swing watched by a group of eager children. The three main puppets hit one another and shout in high pitched voices " Thats the way to do it!" to the delight of the children who know its only a show.

Up on the seafront a PCSO hurries along muttering to herself "Its wasnt me Guv". Nearby a small group of her colleagues are checking their shoes carefully for sand whilst the majority of other officers carry on their duties despite the sand blowing in their eyes and the ridicules of the drunks in the nearby pub carpark.

As the sun settles on the horizon a pensioner in the nearby park watches the ducks settling into their new house. From the open window of a nearby guest house a clocks westmister chime strikes the hour and reminds him of the book he is reading by Ernest Hemingway called " For whom the bell tolls".

Just then the increasing wind drags a discarded newspaper through a pile of dog dirt and then wraps it firmly around the old mans trousers leaving a disgusting deposit on the military crease. So engrossed is he in its removal he does not notice the group of teenagers walking past chatting on their mobiles and laughing at his predicament. After a couple of minutes some of the crap is removed and he gets up and heads home muttering "It must be a sign of the times"

To be continued!