Manners On The Lizard...And A Beach Clean...

Roused ourselves from hibernation the other day in order to march around Lizard Point a bit. And to eat a pasty of course. Walking back towards the village on a very narrow road... we do have to press in to the hedge for several cars. Their drivers waved and thanked. Then I hear the throaty roar of some grand kinda auto... immediately followed by a second.
We pressed in. They passed by.
Not a smile or wave.
I admit I do shout something sarcastic at both of the car parties.... Manners maketh nothing for some.

At the weekend we do also march along the local beach. There were the remains of what must have been a splendid firework show lying all over the sand. Rocket sticks and cylinders in plenty. Cardboard "candle" cylinders the size of Family Chicken Buckets. Red plastic nose cones all over the place. I couldn't stand it and started to gather them together. The Old Man do go one step further and start to ferry them up to a council bin on the path above. Together we manage two or three armfuls and gathered yet more rocket sticks as we walked along back to the car. All the time another couple were beach-combing near by. Perhaps for pretty pebbles? As we passed them on some steps (still clutching our armfuls) they congratulated us on our  beach clean up. They had seen the fireworks from their home some miles away. We were jolly good to pick it all up. They smiled politely and genuinely as they walked on with their carrier bag of beach-combings.
Sometimes... I be puzzled by people.