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Knowing that we were to expect heavy rain all weekend, and that the first hour or two this morning would offer sunshine and showers, we drove out to Mudeford seeking what light there was.
This proved to be interesting. The sun came and went, offering dramatic cloudscapes over the sea;
over the beach huts;
over the harbour;
and over the small town.
Recent downpours had left pools for cars to drive though.
Moored boats bobbed on the choppy wavelets in the sheltered waters,
over which sped a powered vessel.
A number of little rowing boats had filled with water
or capsized.
One, overturned, provided a resting place for juvenile gulls.
We felt sympathy for holidaymakers wrapped in waterproofs, and even more for the intrepid stallholders setting up for the weekend’s Art and Craft Fair.
Almost oblivious of the industry going on around them, a jogger,
a pair of dog walkers,
and a loving couple, continued about their business.
A heap of bright red paddle boards awaited rental customers.
The usual fishing paraphernalia lined the quayside. This couple examined
crab pots;
ropes and lines;
fluttering flags;
and buoys reflecting sunlight
or themselves mirrored in pools,
as were visitors following the first young lady forming a queue for the ferry.
Around the side of the quay the couple I had just passed gazed out to sea.
The most dramatic light of the visit fell on a group beside the car park.
As we left Mudeford for a late breakfast at Friar’s Cliff’s Beach Hut Café, three sail boats set out to sea.
They had made it safely to Friar’s Cliff by the time we reached there.
On the cliff top at Steamer Point lie three very large circular concrete bases.
Their story is now explained on an engraved metal plate fixed to a rock.
This evening we dined on chicken tikka and boiled egg salad. Well, we had had a large, late, fried breakfast. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the malbec.