Over flowing

The morning was bright. It wasn't even blowing a gale. Just a normal winter wind. But slowly and quietly the sea rose to levels much higher than the usual high tide. Like a bath, with taps left running, the water just kept coming, up and over the edge. At the slip, where someone had pulled the blue boat up and out of reach, the sea calmly crept up to the road, then over and along the road.

In the extra, where the track runs next to the shore, the beach had disappeared and through just one small gap in the bank, the sea flowed in and started to make its way down the track.

In the village a few folk gathered to watch and wait. Not a great deal else to be done. Water lapped over the wall of sandbags stacked across Front Road. The Council men brought cones. They rescued and weighted down floating rubbish bins with a pallet and put up a 'Road Closed' sign at Back Road. It stopped cars driving through, making waves which only increased the amount of water flowing over doorsteps into doors.

Then it was over and time to inspect the damage.