The wind is roaring, and rain is falling in heavy down pours

In a break in the weather we make a dash to the seaside

The flags and banners still flowing in the wind and rain

The closed cafes and amusement arcades give the seafront a forlorn air

Dog walkers on the prom enjoying the bracing air

The few arcades that open the doors with peeling paint will not receive much financial gain

The flood protection boards are now in place in case of unexpected storms

The whole seafront seems to be in hibernation ignored and neglected until spring brings tourists with pockets full of coins

As an ex resident of a seaside town

I think I prefer the out of season look even if it is slightly run down

The streets are cleaner chip wrappers are gone

Like the chips the town is clothed in yesterday’s news

It’s had its days of glory in the sun

Victorians parading on the pier

Taking the waters in knitted woollen underwear

Like the path of life it’s had its peak and is on the inevitable downward slope

Unlike Harlow and Monroe

It hangs on like Grable and Mae West to glories of the past

Becoming an embarrassing memory of an era that is past

It has a certain charm but is a time that has been done