was expecting someone, but not so early! In the middle of
cooking breakfast, and only half dressed, I stumbled toward
the door. Opening it I realized what had happened. I had
forgotten this was the day to set clocks ahead! "You've
forgotten the aspect of Eckt" my visitor said with a smile.
"Yes", I said. Standing beyond him I noticed half a dozen
villagers gathered along the path to the gate. They carried
poles and nets and wore tall yellow or lime green wading
boots. With a laugh the man said "You'd better hurry - the
tide is about to turn". Leaving him at the door I moved
quickly to don my best guess at the required outfit. Still
buttoning buttons and snapping snaps I joined the milling
group & we headed out. Breakfast, snatched from frying
pan and toaster, was stuffed into a pocket. Unbuttered
toast and bacon slices wrapped in the front page of
yesterday's paper.
As our group dribbled down a well worn path I could see we
were not alone. Off in the distance, climbing & descending
sandy dunes were other groups. The tang of salty air grew
triggering my appetite as we moved seaward. I reached for
the hastily assembled sandwich and ate. Unwrapping it I
read the headline on the paper."Record Polliwog run
expected". The sound of crashing waves was louder now
and on mounting the next dune we saw it - the edge of
the western sea. The water extended itself from beneath
a veil of fog. Its powerful pounding assault pushed foaming
brine up the steeply inclined beach. Up and up it rolled
only loosing momentum on reaching the ragged line of
seaweed and driftwood, the high tide mark. Two things
triggered the run I was told, highest tide and sun. We
stood and watched the dawn's rays burn away the fog.
"They'll be run'n boys!" one of the men shouted and
everyone responded with a roar, drown in the far
louder roar of the surf.
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