I was curled tight and small when she put on her shoes and called the dogs to walk but I unfurled and stretched and together we walked to the sea.
A steady swell rose and fell and the sea sang as the sun slanted onto ginger, evening sun, still warm, and the sound of the sea an evening song as it sucked and pulled at the shore below.
The tight balled flowers of meadowsweet echoed the salt sea spray, the young flowers still holding tight to their honey perfume.
For a while we sat to watch the birds fly as far out to sea a river of shearwaters flew low over the sea.
On the way home the sky still held more of the day than night though the scent of night creatures began to colour the air.