THE SAND BEETLES
(inspired by May’s theme: It only takes one person to make a difference)

My granddaughter and I arrive on Redcar beach. It is early morning. We have one bucket, a spade, a sandwich each and a towel.

“Look! Grandma! The sand on the beach – it’s crawling.”

I think I haven’t heard her properly. I look at the sand to where she points. Yes, the sand IS crawling. Alive with thousands of tiny beetles. We both look down at our feet.

“Urgh!” says Ruby and pulls a face. “We stood on them.”

“Yes, we did,” I reply and face the sea.

“Grandma! We can follow the beetles. See where they are going.”

So, we do. We follow the beetles. We overtake some of them. Some are going round and round like clockwork toys. Most of them are heading in the direction of the sea.

“It’s a long way,” says Ruby. “Where are they going to? Can they swim?”

“I don’t know”

And I say that I don’t know to both of her questions. They seem to be milling, like a crowd of people viewed a thousand feet below a helicopter and we are caught up in a fettle of thousands of beetles.

Ruby points again, “The sea. All going to the sea.”

We follow the beetles that surge for the sea.

“There are so many,“ I say, “But we only have one bucket.” I leave the thought hanging.

Ruby concentrates on the beetles. She is fascinated by the way they walk. Whereas, I wish I had thought of bringing my nature book. Grandchildren often ask me to identify insects and birds. I have no idea what kind of beetles they are, and I have never before seen this behaviour.

Our feet reach the foaming advance of the waves as the water creeps towards the beetles. Then we see that there are some beetles that are floating on the surface salt water. They look like they can’t swim.

Ruby shows her sad face. I tell her that we can’t possibly save them because there are thousands. They will most probably die. There are too many,” I repeat.

Ruby scoops at the sand and deposits some beetles in the bucket.

“Look Grandma. We can make a difference.”

“I don’t think we can make a difference to all these beetles.”

“No, we can’t for all these. But I can make a difference for these beetles in my bucket.”

And she is right…



MAGIC DISTRACTION (April 2026 theme)

Jonathan is rather weird,
It is exactly as I feared.
He won’t eat his meals 
Of chopped fresh eels, 
And hides in his room
Curled tight round a broom.

Sometimes he gives us a terrible fright
By hanging from the bathroom ceiling light,
And dropping on unsuspecting folk
For a joke.

The cream you gave me for his skin,
Well – when I tried to rub it in
He slithered off in a grumpy mood,
He really was extremely rude.
He will not eat, he will not drink
Tell me doctor, what do you think?

The doctor took up the stethoscope, 
He gave poor Jonathan a nasty poke, 
And then he wished he had left him alone, 
For Jonathan bit his finger to the bone.

The doctor howled and backed away.
His face turned a washed-out shade of grey, 
His finger throbbed and ached some more
And drops of blood fell to the floor.
He dialled 999 for the ambulance crew,
And a keeper was rushed in from the zoo.

Jonathan went as stiff as a rake,
He poked out his tongue with a hiss and a shake.
Well  .   .   .   what else can you expect from a snake?


Wake the Tailor  (inspired by November's theme: Lucky Charm)

Somewhere in the room a clock tick, tock
Tacks up a hem while
The tailor’s bifocals slip from his
Nose and steam head first
Into his cup of coffee noir.

A pair of boots measure heel to
Toe a strip of linen intended
For a tablecloth – oh! 
A dressing gown tries it on

The cat lights the log burner with
His tape measure tail then
Continues to pummel wool his purring
Breathes life into the sewing machine

A pair of trousers pull away from
The tailor’s loose grip and slide under
The foot of the sewing machine to
Be overlocked by the cat’s paws

A pair of moths pin a pattern on the
Linen cloth and a pair of scissors cut
Out a table runner with
The assistance of a desk lamp

The cup of coffee empties its contents
to douse the cat’s smoldering
Tail which snakes around knitting needles
And knit-purrs a jumper

Carpet fibers riot, lift from their rug
Join threads for the rainbow dance in
Moonlight accompanied by a cutlery percussion, 
herringbone into shades not available in nature

The Poinsettia plant heaves herself out of her
pot to try on the jumper leaving
A compost snail trail
Behind her

The cat perches the tailor’s
Bifocals on his nose
The tailor blinks.

Everyone else statues.

With a curious smile the tailor mumbles
“This work won’t finish itself,”

And goes back to 
Quietly Sewing.