I'd planned to take George to the woods today but we got outside and, on the spur of the moment - cos I'm that sort of girl - we went down to the beach instead.
The recent high tides and storms have taken their toll. The sand dunes, such as they are, between Blackpill and Swansea look as if they've had a big chunk sliced off with a knife.
The walk to Swansea was okay. I was regretting not wearing a hat or gloves but with the hood of my coat - or rather Nuora's coat - up it wasn't too bad. But then we turned around and headed back. Into the wind. Into a gale. Okay, that may be an exaggeration but I'd barely gone 50 yards and I was struggling.
I figured that the closer I walked inshore the less windy it would be but the sand there is much softer and harder to walk on. In the end I compromised and for a while walked along the high tide line. That meant I could do a bit of beach combing. Sadly most of the stuff washed up these days is plastic but you occasionally find a nice bit of weathered wood. Not today but at least browsing took my mind off the battle I was waging with the wind.
And the wind doesn't half make my nose run!