Beached

Waking in the caravan, it is always a surprise to see what the day has to offer on the other side of the blinds. New ones have a huge skylight where it is possible to see Skylab from the bed, yet ours, being pre-2000, only manages to transfer the tell-tail patter of raindrops into our memory-foam slumber. The greyness exposed, it always seems so much more acceptable at the coast, and a walk on the beach was calling before breakfast.

The standing stone in centre of the adjacent field, captured appropriately in b/w, was later found to be a gate-post, put there by the previous owner. The Mesolithic mystery conjured by it's presence immediately evaporated without trace, so naturally it failed to carry any credence in blip-land.

It is a source of continual interest that on one small beach there can be such variety in size of rocks, stones, pebbles, gravel, sand and mud particals, all so carefully segregated by time and wave action.

Their continuing story was waiting to be discovered, under our feet.