+KNIGHTS OF THE SANDCASTLE +

There once was a mysterious band of knights who roamed and raved their days and nights along the banks of the cool dark waters. Young and wild, they howled at the moon like the wolves, and on the clear days when the sun seemed to sparkle like diamonds on their faces, they stood sullen like statues of antiquity before cawing and cooing outrageously to their peers. 

They sat watching the crowd waves roar; the boardwalk full of walking visitors, strange and new from far away places, that would all turn away in disdain from the boys of summer, sensing somehow their mighty position above it all . . . 

They weren’t there for the sights and sounds, instead vying for an order of things far from the distressing quarrels of everyday society. 

Simple positions shared amongst them all. One assigned to watch, another to distribute, another to discover, and the rest to play by the rules. No one over stepped a turn at the bottle, for each one knew that their last could be any day.  Neville, one of the leaders, would say, ‘Never shy from your true colours’ and these they would display with unbroken pride. 

Your honour was earned by the friendships you garnered and gathered. 

Some say they had magic on their sides; magic powers taken from the ages, used to ensure their place along the sand dunes. Others say they made friends easily, but were actually ghosts playing games on the common folk.