White horses.

It's a blowy old day. I'm getting some stick locally for being too much of a coward to get down to the beach to 'Bag the bruck'. Having been to a sale at the Community Centre in aid of the local doctor's surgery and almost having my glasses ripped from my face by the 'breeze', I think my lassitude is fully justified.

I braved it from the car nearby to Newark farm to snap the sea in the Bay of Lopness. There doesn't appear to be much of a swell, although all the North isles ferries have been cancelled, but it's frothing up quite vigorously.

Don't think I'll be venturing out without lead boots. What a shame I don't have any of those.