You see strange...

things when you live by the sea.

On a cold and bleak day my interest was piqued by a woman sitting on the bench opposite.  What drew my attention was the fact the man with her stood looking this way.  What was that all about I idly wondered.  A car pulled up with four people who got out to join them.  Two women and a  boy and girl, late teens at a guess. The three older women busied about putting things on the bench.  The girl in her moth eaten old fur with black leggings and stout boots, the outfit topped off with jaunty  black beret stood apart crying.  The boy sat on the end of the seat looking forlorn.  The two older men, hands in pockets doing what older men seem to do on these occasions being there in a supporting role without actually displaying any emotions. Perish the thought... showing the merest glimpse of any sort of weakness was I suppose in
their books a sign of the very thing they were trying to avoid... weakness?

The girl cried on, being comforted in turn by the women.  The boy took himself off to the beach and had what I thought was a quiet cry.  The girl joined him, they clung together in mutual grief.  Still the men stood stoically looking on.  

A grey bitter cold day for them to show their respects.

As they drove away the sun came out...