Foreshore

I didn't get out finally for that walk until evening was falling fast.

Phonecalls and emails with John's solicitor, a visit to our estate agent, Sainsbury's, a visit to himself who was wearing his birthday pajamas and refused to get up on account of being 94. Which seems fair enough. A long chat with his daughter. 

I processed this photo quite a lot - cut out the sky and turned it down, adjusted the shadows a wee bit and brought the highlights down a tad. The tide was coming in and threatened to spill over me boots.

It is amazing how the sea has rearranged the huge rockfall of chalk over the summer, eroding the spoil of which there was thousands of tons, shifting shingle into the new bay and building it up against the cliff bottoms.

But still, not a place to tarry. Fred says it OK to walk under them if you don't look up but I never go that way anymore.