Call Me Master Sand Sculptor

I have been so inspired by the exceptional sand sculptures on the beaches of Fuengirola that I've been thinking of trying my hand at the art. Then I remembered that I used to be quite talented myself when I was a kid. My specialty was the harbor seal.

KISS THE FROG IN FUENGIROLA...
AND ALL YOU GET IS SANDY LIPS.

NATIVE AMERICANS A LA FUENGIROLA.
(THE PEACE PIPE, CAMPFIRE, AND VOLCANO ALL  GET LIT AT NIGHT... AS DO THE SCULPTORS.)

Although my harbor seal wasn't bad, I never honed it to the level shown by these local artists. And I don't have any photos to share. But I did find a shot of one of my "sand fortresses" under construction in the mid 1980s. San Geraldo and I were on the beach in Scituate Harbor, Massachusetts (about 20 miles/32 km north of Plymouth Rock where San Geraldo's ancestors landed the Mayflower in 1620). It was one of our many visits with good friends who lived there. In the photo, I'm caught mid-creation; the evil San Geraldo is caught as he's about to splash cold water on our sweet, unaware, friend Sarah (now a mother of two). From the looks of things, it's good I hadn't yet quit my day job.

I BUILT IT MYSELF. 

(OH, ALRIGHT! I WAS ONLY SARAH'S ASSISTANT.)