Early this morning Jackie drove me out to Mudeford Quay for a photoshoot.
Neatly piled up are fishermen’s equipment, such as
ropes and chains,
and what I believe are crab pots,
and marker buoys.
It must have been the hazy heat that led us to water for the second day running. Even quite early it wrapped The Needles and their lighthouse in clingfilm as a yacht slipped past the Isle of Wight and a buoy bobbed in the bay.
Holidaymakers were emerging from their picturesque accommodation,
but otherwise families had not yet driven in their droves when we arrived and I wandered around watching various aquatic activities such as rowing;
what I am grateful to several commenters below, to be able to call paddle-boarding;
and casting for fish.
Discussion about plans for the day took place while leaning on a boat,
or by means of the mobile phone. This paddling gentleman was soon joined by two children and a woman who rang to ask where he was. He was amused when I showed him the picture.
Even the gulls kept largely out of sight, except for one looking startled on the water,
and another surveying the scene from a rather motley rooftop.
Nearby, a roofer’s head was already lit by the sun which would soon bear straight down on him;
and The Haven staff were already watering the hanging baskets.
In eager anticipation of the first ferry trip to Hengistbury Head
families surged onto the quay
and formed an ever-lengthening queue.
The transport arrived on time and eager embarkation began.
The barriers around the quayside are to prevent anyone taking a dive down the steps leading up to the platform.
This father looked as if he was feeling the strain;
until he entered the boat and his partner brought along the empty buggy.
The last few boarders took their places,
and the fully laden boat set off.
As I returned to the car I spotted a large sandy dog excavating the spit across the water.
This afternoon I gave Jackie token assistance with watering the garden.
This even we dined on the Culinary Queen’s wholesome sausage, bacon, and heart casserole. She drank Hoegaarden and I quaffed more of the Côtes du Rhône.