Swanage seafront in October

The beach is empty - icy waves roll in from Swanage Bay - a hardy gaffer follows his dog by the foreshore - I marvel at his splendid grizzled beard - the sand is strewn with brown rags of seaweed -

In the summer, the beach shines bright yellow in the afternoon sun - young mums eat ice creams whilst their toddlers loll in their buggies like indolent rakes - boys josh pert girls - the arcade is thronging with patrons - the claw gropes the air, missing a cute teddy bear - Daily Mails or Suns crackle in the breeze - later, a Punch and Judy booth will be set up, and cones of chips will be devoured - dads will adjust their trousers - grey faces will become brown - postcards of the Jurassic Coast will be spun round in racks outside louche shops, selling fossils and sexy geegaws - but all this is finished now - a drizzly rain falls -

I look at the shut down kiddies' amusement park, overlooking the beach - no longer can you hear excited yelps from the bumper cars - the toddlers' big wheel is locked down for winter - the coloured light bulbs are blown backwards and forwards in the wind - nothing is moving or beeping -

I could weep looking up at The Hungry Shark - that brilliant blue shark, bursting through the facia - what mind conjured up such a beast?

I think of the Japanese expression - mono no aware - the pathos of things -