It Could Be…

It doesn’t have to be the spectacular sniff of unwelcoming Scottish wind, sprinting fast as a full speed race car around Troon.

It doesn’t have to be the taste of a magnificent fried fritter, with salt sprinkled carefully , and if you would like, even a dribble of vinegar.

It could be the screechy squawk of an elder seagull, very proudly gliding slow as a turtle through earths roof, that was now grey and cloudy.

It could be the oddly satisfying sound the infuriated navy blue waves ,aggressively punishing the old,  grey bumpy stone wall.

Be curious as George, jumping and bouncing around all hyper, trying to find all different delightful things to start a small investigation on.

Just pay attention to the delicious smell of a swirly vanilla ice-cream ,with chocolatey chocolate sauce drizzled on fantastically, and a crumby flake pushed into the wonderful tongue-freezing food.