Walking along North Cliff, seeking a louche cafe for an icy lassi, I paused to let a vendor of tablas pass by -
I looked up at the sky - a sudden movement had caught my eye -
There, swooping above the beach and the rip tides, was a Paraglider - a dark figure was suspended from the orange sail -
I watched the flight of this airborne flaneur for some while -
I imagined myself, seeking thermals above the sand, finding my solace in the air -
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