Description
And the story…
It was one of those days when the sea was peeved. He was grumbling loudly. His work was never done; sorting pebbles, large here, small there, medium… flotsam… jetsam… and who threw that in!?… and then, the next day, he’d have to start all over again. He slammed down a wave and looked over into the distance. Were they watering already? Great jets of water shot across the crop fields. It was only April…
“That’ll be the next thing,” he spluttered, “they’ll want to build one of those painful desalination plants and dry me out… I’m going to put in a request for a meeting with the sun and see if we can’t arrange a top up of my levels… As if I haven’t enough to do…”
And on he rumbled into the afternoon, managing to stir up the wind so that by supper time the pair of them were full on furious; rampaging up and down the cliffs like crazed hooligans, taking out chunks of the coast and smashing them on the beach below.
High up, in the thoroughly quenched field, Denzil and Marj looked on and then at one another, oblivious to their part in the drama.
“You’d better tighten your tiles Marj; it’s going to be a rough night,” said Denzil. “The sea will have calmed down by the morning. If this flipping wind keeps up though, I’m going to need to water again tomorrow! It’s drying out my seedlings!” he added, turning the up thermostat and closing his blinds. His work was never done…
