The mood is different in the evening, especially when the tide is out.  The beaches are quiet, just distant voices and music drifting over the sand.  Fishing, pleasure, sailboats, grounded yet moored, stand cocked to one side waiting for sea to return.  Village lights glisten against tidepools.  And there’s the lovely breeze, the ripples of water, piles of distant clouds.

 

 

 

It’s a wholly different feeling from the daytime, coloured by stillness, the growing dusk, the distant lights.

I took some time to drive along the coast, pulling in at various bays and villages, beaches and headlands, comparing the varieties of the shoreline experience. It ranges widely within even a few miles, but is always both fascinating and immersive.

Even when at least half of every day has to be spent on work…

 

I now have theories of entrepreneurship based on barnacles: finding hostile niches, armoured against stronger predators, adaptable to water or air.

 

I have to wonder if coastal cannon are counterproductive: If you sink the pirate ship, doesn’t it just leave you with a lot of pirate refugees swimming ashore to settle?

 

Why hasn’t someone improved on the umbrella?  Everyone seems to struggle with them.  They don’t keep rain off very well, the ribs break all the time, it blows inside out at the slightest gust.  Here’s a Kickstarter / Indiegogo that I’d invest in.

 

More in the album at my Flickr site.