A bird and a gleam in the south

Driven by our insatiable need to walk, we found ourselves on the deserted West Bay prom in the middle of the day. The wind was blowing quite determinedly in our faces, the sea a leaden grey with white breakers, and downriver it looked as if the Isle of Cumbrae was bathed in a golden light that wasn't available to us mere mortals, though it looked as if a rain shower was approaching from the west.  And that lone seagull flew over just in time to take part in this wee drama. 

Meanwhile, of course, the much larger drama of the "meaningful vote" was gearing up in Westminster. Is this continuing fiasco, that is creating stress for so many people, the working out of a cunning plan? Surely we can't leave Europe now? All that time wasted ...

And there are still foodbanks. In Dunoon.