She was sometimes spotted on days like these, the Beach Angel. On her travels, a neon sign had tangled in her hair and now she glowed like a disorientated Vegas madonna. Spotting her was always a good omen though. Sometimes, she just looked like sea mist but at others times, she was lit up. She seemed to be of a different time and there was a local acceptance that she was a treasured ghost. One minute she was there, the next, she had evaporated into the cold Firth of Forth. Beautiful Beach Angel.