My mum, dad and I had some special holidays in our caravan by the sea in Cornwall when I was growing up. They were long, warm and sunny days filled with miles of sand. Cheerful coloured buckets, spades and wonderful sandcastles. Many hours were spent happily building fantastic creations. At the end of the day you would look at what you had built and through child’s eyes expect it to be there when you returned the next morning.

When you are little you don’t understand that the tide goes in and out, and it carries away all in its path  – even my sandcastle…

I built it with my mum
On our first holiday
It stood there proud and tall
For the rest of that day.

We went home for our tea
I sleepily went to bed
With visions of castle turrets
Floating around my head.

I awoke the next morning
Quickly ran to the beach
There was too much sand
The sea was out of reach.

I found the little shells
That bejewelled the castle wall
Then the lolly-stick drawbridge
But that was all.

I sensed my mum behind me
She gently took my hand
We ambled up the beach again
She seemed to understand.

I built it with my mum
On our first holiday
It stood there in the moonlight
Until the sea took it away.

Photo by Dallas Reedy via Unsplash