The beach gardener

          Every now and again, Ma Nature decides to raise her voice a little, this was the case recently on our little island when we were visited by a weather system which became known as “The beast from the east”.

          To many other places around the world, our beast would seem like a storm in a teacup, some places endure storms and temperatures far beyond the recent one which brought Britain almost to a standstill, they’re used to battling much harsher elements on a daily basis.

          It’s amazing what you can get used to, but this is our main problem, we’re quite used to experiencing all four of our seasons in one week, but always within a pretty narrow temperature scale, once our weather steps outside of our norm, we’re not prepared, or equipped to cope with it.

          Weymouth actually got off quite lightly compared to many other places around Britain, it has a sort of micro-climate, protected from most of the harsh weather by higher land on three sides.  Friends I’ve made, who have lived here for much longer than my short nine months or so tell me that they can’t remember a proper snowfall here for at least ten years.


          Our “award winning” beach took a bit of a battering, the winds whipped snow and sand together into high drifts along the prom, it was almost impossible to imagine the summer season starting just four short weeks away with holidaymakers laying down their towels and building sandcastles on a beautiful sunny beach. 

          The snow melted away and preparations went on, but the high tide together with the high winds had carved a vertical wall of about two feet or more in height right around the curve of our usually flat sands.  So definite was the dividing line, that I’m sure Hubby wasn’t the only person to wonder what the mechanical diggers had planned for our beach this year for the new summer season.

          The children’s rides, the trampolines and helter-skelter arrived, foundations went down for the ice cream kiosks and trinket shops along the sands, but the dividing ledge still remained, our storm battered beach wasn’t going to win any awards this year.   The ledge softened slightly as sand and sea lovers made their way from one level to another, but Ma Nature was going to need a little help to make our beach beautiful again.

          Have you ever built a sandcastle on Weymouth beach and wondered how you’ve woken up to a beautiful flat beach ready to play again the following morning? 

          One of the perks of working the morning shift is being able to walk along the prom as the sun is coming up, as the bins are being emptied, the roads are being swept and any party remnants are being cleared away ready to start a new day.

          Usually at about five-thirty the beach gardener comes out to work his magic.  He works his way up and down the beach pulling his giant mechanical rake behind him.  When he’s finished, all that is left of the lumps and bumps of the day before are a few giant tyre tracks.


          It’s taking him a little longer to level his garden this year, but it won’t be long before you can lay your towel again on any part of the beach you choose.  


           More from before: Semi-retirement by the seaside in “Weymouth

6 thoughts on “The beach gardener

  1. A tip of the hat to the unsung heroes who toil in the wee hours to keep the beach so tidy! I hope at least one of them sees your post and knows that his/her efforts are appreciated. 🙂

    • Oh, I would love for my post to make one of them smile. 😊
      There’s a growing army of locals who are banding together to make Weymouth nice to live in. They started with a simple clean up of the town centre, descending on one of the less loved areas armed with just rubber gloves and scrubbing brushes and its snowballed from there. Now they’re getting noticed and given help and support from officialdom to make a difference.

      • Isn’t it wonderful when a POSITIVE movement like this starts gaining momentum? With neighbors like that, I imagine Weymouth must be one of the loveliest places to live — regardless of its appearance.

  2. Pingback: Sifted sands | Photographic Memories

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