This windy, warm, and hazy afternoon Jackie drove me to Milford on Sea where the car parks are now open
although the Public Conveniences are not. The sign warning people to keep their distance applies to the empty bench.
Similar signs line the sparsely populated promenade.
Two gentlemen approached with their dogs. Only one of the owners could manage the shingle.
Boisterous billowing waves battered breakwaters and rocks while black-headed gulls flew overhead and kite surfers could be seen in the distance at Barton.
A single family group braced themselves against the breeze
Derrick windswept
as I had done earlier
while photographing the sea.
The verges along Park Lane nurtured banks of sweeping thrift, grasses, moon daises and dandelions while round the corner a tidy row of calendula lined a concrete wall.
From here we drove on to South Sway Lane where
a cock pheasant now strutted about Gimlet’s field and
across the road, fully equipped with Personal Protective Equipment, stood the horse which we believe is our manure factory. The rug protects from the cold nights we are currently experiencing; the face and ear masks keep the flies away. We carried off three bags of the animal’s prime product.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s tasty and wholesome liver and bacon casserole; crunchy carrots; tender cabbage; and creamy swede and potato mash. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while I quaffed Valle Central reserva privada Syrah 2019.
This post is my second effort with the new editor. Despite my good friend Tangental’s efforts to guide me I have been unable to change the font.