Sand Pits at the South Bank

Martin came to play guitar at the Premises Songwriter Course and we went for a walk along the South Bank: sand pits for young-uns, Thames beaches for teenagers perched on the steps down and running across the shingle; earnest elderly men in sandals and beards with small backpacks, walking along with effort, as though they were climbing mountains on the flat; a little red-headed boy chasing a pigeon that was too damn lazy to fly away so it just ran along in front of him; a school party with a very bossy teacher pointing things out in a LOUD VOICE; Mexican food and Mr Whippy's with a flake; graffiti and skateboarders; a charcoal-tinted cormorant skimming the edge of the river, at speed; The Globe and its gorgeous decorated gate; trees with scaly bark and glittering leaves; boats galore, all speeds and all ages; painters underneath Blackfriars Bridge; a bagpiper down on the beach (avoid); a sand-sculptor making an abstract sand sculpture ditto location, with a bucket in the middle of a target for your monetary contributions; a cool breeze; so much, so much, so wonderful!