It is such a joy that we have the time now to simply wander along the sands of low tide looking for anything of interest, and one day a simple objective developed - to search for patterns.
Of course, once one starts to notice them one realises how beautiful they are if, at times, enigmatic. This one, perhaps, I can begin to explain. The sea lies to the left of this cobble and its retreat carved a ditch around it, into which water has drained, forming the dendritic pattern.
However, this braided pattern, about six foot long, I cannot even begin to account for but....
....the last gentle, retreating wave of a falling tide has carved neat patterns around these pea-sized pebbles.
In contrast, the falling tide has washed back-and-forth across this hair-like piece of weed, its movements, like those of a windscreen wiper on a frosty morning, leaving a pattern across the sand.
Some beautifully unblemished stretches of sand hold the memory of the dainty passing of a wader, perhaps a redshank, while....
....a more brutal passage tells the story of someone's very happy hound.
This is the pattern a contented man leaves, like all the others soon to be wiped clean by the tide.
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