A luscious meal of tasty morsels.
Their alabaster homes for a time.
Our collection of gnarled and twisty driftwood.
Eager hands and winding, winding, winding.
Long pieces of jute twine and ever so careful looping and knot tying.
A few broken souls bound for the sandpit.
Listening for the sea.
Letting the gentle breeze run through making them all a clatter.
Slow and simple days.