Contributed by Martyn Green Coordinator, Baywater Anglers

As the tide retreated, so hordes of humans descended on the beach, until shrieks of laughter and the piercing cries of the children seemed to fill the air itself. Some leapt in the water, calling out and laughing, even as they shivered in the sudden cold, while others simply lay on the sand and dozed, their bodies gleaming with oil, their skin slowly darkening through shades of red to burnished bronze. Others headed for the pools at the side, led by a vanguard of shrieking, laughing, children, their buckets and their brightly coloured nets clutched firmly in their hands. Behind them came their parents, smiling as they watched the small bodies heaving over rocks, racing backwards and forwards, calling out as they discovered the creatures lurking in the pools. Then, as the sun appeared directly overhead and the tide dropped even lower, so more and more arrived until every pool was full of splashing, laughing children. All that is, save one, where the rocks fell away to a point far deeper than you would normally expect. At this point the children paused, looking down into its depths, where a jungle of kelp covered its bed and hid its inhabitants from view. Some jumped in, but its depth and the sharp stones beneath their feet discouraged them from lingering. Others, however, had different plans, pleading with their parents until they set off, reaching for their wallets, for the little shop at the end of the promenade. Beneath the jungle of kelp, ignoring the strange, distorted images that flickered across the surface of the pool, its citizens slithered or scurried or swam about their business, each one busy with his or her daily chores. Some paused to chat, but on the whole the creatures, slightly alarmed, but used to, the commotion above simply got on with what they had to do.

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