When we arrived it was low tide. The beach was vast, a sea mist sitting on top of the waves as they ran over the sand. They were now innocent ripples, all that remained of the massive mountains of water which were gathering and breaking further out to sea. The waves were huge. They were North Sea grey, powerful and menacing. Amazingly there was a sole surfer. An inexperienced soul who just didn't seem to have the hang of catching a wave because he missed every one.
Tilly, the camera and I went back this morning to see if the sea was still churning. The waves were crashing in, but the light was not in the sky today. It was grey, raining and cold. However there were plenty of surfers, a few horses and riders galloping the long stretch of beach, and a healthy quota of dog walkers.
even better with my camera in my hand. Lesson learnt now.