For the first time this year, everything fell into place and I had time and weather (as long as you don’t mind grey and misty) and they’d finished digging up the roads close to the beach. So off we went down to the sea, and, as you’ll see, we pretty much had it to ourselves and I’ve had an exfoliating treatment free because I’ve been lightly sand-scoured.
When we arrived, it was amazingly atmospheric. The mist had closed in and there was that strange muffling of sound that made it feel as if you were the only people in the world. Then, little by little, the sun broke through as we walked and the world became normal again.
Little pied wagtails hopped along the sand feeding. A lone fisherman fished with long lines, probably with his fingers crossed that the local seals weren’t going to come and play their favourite tricks by waiting till he got a bite and then biting the body off the fish and scoffing it, leaving him just with the head.
Away in the distance, Old Harry Rocks gleamed white in the sunshine in Windy Bay territory. Across on the other side you could see Hengistbury Head gradually appearing as the mist receded. Some hardy small children were playing in the sand and I even had time to walk across the road to the place where the flying boats used to land.
Once, all that was behind barbed wire fences and the beach was mined in case of invasion. In summer, it’s known as a millionaire’s playground. But today is was all mine and I loved every second of it, and took these pictures to share with you.
This was at the end of the walk...
This was at the beginning
And this was the moment when it changed and the world stopped being sepia toned!