Hercules

Its funny.

We live reasonably close to the beach. Not so close that we can hear the waves breaking on the shore, or that we stand outside and get our clothes covered in salt, but close enough that I really SHOULD be down there nearly every afternoon in summer, soaking up some of the fine things this great country has to offer.

Inevitably, I’m not.

Every spring I promise that I’ll spend more time down at the beach over summer and yet, its usually well into april, may or june before I get there. I’m sure I’ve spent more autumn and winter days at the beach than I have summer. Part of the reason (well, let me tell a lie and say that its 90% of my excuse) is that dogs are supposed to be banned from the beach during summer, so I have to go during the ‘off season’ to be able to take Hercules.

He loves the beach. He will run to the front door of the house, sit handsomely in front of it wagging his tail fiercely as soon as he hears the ‘B’ word. As soon as we are out of the car, he is prancing and pulling at the lead to get there faster. Soaking up all the smells, chasing the seagulls, running around like a nutcase – he doesn’t care, its the beach!. He even puts up with me entertaining myself by trying to get him to go swimming.

So as spring fast approaches, here is another time where I’m promisendeavouring to get to the beach more often this summer, and hopefully, here is also some inspiration for anyone else who doesn’t get down to the beach as often as they should.

Cheers

Ash