We all know that Dad's bare the crushing weight of responsibility for their offspring with quiet dignity.
None more so than the figure in the painting above. I was watching and daubing away as he and his two small boys started the sandcastle.
Within ten minutes the famous North Sea 'fret' had crept up behind them, cold damp and visually disturbing.
After a further quarter of an hour, Mum whisked the youngsters off to the Beach Cafe for warming Tea and Bacon Sarnies.
He and I stuck at our tasks. Him, because he knew the sandcastle had to be complete before the tide got to it........I, in solidarity for his unflinching application to the task, finished my daub.
Twenty minutes passed, we exchanged a brief nod of shared recognition, and went our separate ways.