Bindy’s busy in the sand dunes, running, sniffing, jumping, chasing crows and trying to chew on rushes.
The clouds break, and we’re bathed in ethereal gold. A sailing boat breezes by. Other dogs bark in the distance.
Unhurriedly, we stroll along a heather walk dotted with hoof prints, studded with glowing gorse.
It’s not boggy, not marshy, but a kind of tangled, serene wetland.
The clouds have parted again and we’re walking in sunshine. Bindy’s got a hairy halo.
Now she’s clattering in the rushes, collar tinkling. We follow the trail past dazzling white birches.
All the while, the sound of the sea beckons us on. A little labyrinth of sandy tracks brings us back to the beach.
I paddle in the surf. Bindy begs to play chase on the beach.
The sea might be a jaded turquoise, yet a heavenly blue patches the sky above.
All of a sudden I’m hopscotching over oyster shells, clam shells, razor clams and limpets. Then I find this.