the daily swim 7

It was a bit chilly stepping into the sea today and I thought briefly about a paddle instead but womaned up and slid into the water. The temperature had dropped during the night and a cooler and frantic wind had been blowing all day from inland out over the sea. It probably has a name - all winds in Provence have names but I only know the sirocco and the mistral and it wasn't either of those as there was no desert sand and no heat.

The post-swim 'sit and dry off and scribble in my notebook' spell was punctuated by me telling a woman that dogs weren't allowed on the beach. It takes me some courage and effort to complain in a foreign language and I don't like being an enjoyment-squasher but a big bouncy black lab and soft sand and little kids playing on it don't work together. And there's a panneau on the promenade that distinctly has a picture of a wolfy thing with a red line across it.

I watch a little boy leaving the beach with his parents. He stops to fill up his Crocs with sand.