mark hewins

Pink Flamingo

Why feature an inflatable flamingo? You may well ask, dear friend. For me, the flamingo is something to be celebrated. Even though I have always chosen orange before pink, even though I prefer to sit in solitude than to flock to parties, flamingos click on the pure happiness switch in my brain. If the graceful swan belongs to ballet at Covent Garden, then the precarious flamingo must be disco at Studio 54. For even when you see a huge flock of the birds, it is so obviously comprised of zany individuals.

So if I were a child at Margate, having the hottest summer that I could ever remember,  if it were too early for an ice cream, but too soggy to make a sandcastle, you can bet that I would stride out over the sand ripples. I would wear my squeakily flamingo inflatable with pride, and Margate’s glorious, happiness switch would be flipped on, all summer long.

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