The wind blows us onto the beach, propelling forward limbs, whipping clothes and towels against sunburnt skin. We undress hurriedly, ever watchful of the darkening sky- half blue, half black. As we put on yesterdays damp swimming costumes sand storms sting our pale naked legs. In the distance rain paints grey stripes on postcard beaches, it is coming. The sea is covered in tiny choppy waves, each blue triangle tipped with whitish foam. It is rough, choppy, the water milky emerald green and dark dangerous blue. We run in- through the chill and the sudden cold and suddenly we are laughing and swimming caught in the exhilaration of the wind and the sun and the water- intoxicated by nature.