Studland, Dorset

Anne, Penny and myself walk along the beach at Studland - the sky above and the sea before us are great sweeping rushes of space and movement - I think - I could be walking in a weird and beautiful film - there could be whirlpools in the air around us - I think of Roadside Picnic - we see two young men, dark and sparkling in their wet suits, trying to water ski - they try again and again and again to get it right - a snappy speed boat zig zags around them -

We see many dogs - leaping, swimming, running, toadying, snarling and growling - including two monstrous pit bulls - like giant muscular slugs, straining on their puny leads -

We sit beneath the sand dunes - the sand is still pitted from recent rain - heaps of seaweed are to be found on the shoreline - collected there by the tides and currents -

Anne asks - "Would the nudists be allowed to water ski naked off their section of the beach"? - Penny keeps her face admirably expressionless -

I think about the strange and happy portions of lives lived out in the beach huts - set out in lines behind the dunes