Deckchairs all alone

A blowy rainy day in Teignmouth.

Distressed deckchairs. All forlorn. Bereft.

Of sitters. And watchers. And talkers. Of warm bums and dozy heads.

Doesn’t feel like it’s even started yet. Summer.

Come on you Sun!

Start smiling.

I wanna get me shorts and flip-flops on.