Words have dried up on me this week. (I’m doing the net equivalent of pacing up and down impatiently waiting for some news. Sadly that doesn’t involve exercise.)
So I’ll wax lyrical about the beach. Again. I took these photos last week.
Have I mentioned before how it is always different?
Have I mentioned before how my favourite time to walk is low tide?
Probably, you’re always going on about tide times and all that. Yaddah, yaddah… blah, blah, blah.
Have I mentioned how my favourite time to walk is late afternoon, when Mother Nature has taken her box of pastel watercolours out?
Hmm, maybe. I dunno…
Ok, I’ll just shut up now, and give up with the strained analogies.
If I could time manage myself to get out and walk at this time every day, I think I’d be onto something.