Every Sunday morning last winter I would get myself out of bed (on a good day before 8) and drive half an hour to a beach for a morning walk.

The wind would be cold.

The sand would be freezing to the point of not being able to feel my feet (I have a beach rule with no shoes).

And the waves would be harsh.

But at that time of the day it was mine. I shared this with no other souls and for a small handful of time the world was all my own.

With a holiday weekend comes extra time and I took the opportunity to return to the beach I have visited far too little this year and capture some images.
From where I came

Starfish shaped seaweed

Horses and tracks
Lone fisherman and his friend
Lines leading to the misty distance

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