Monday, July 27, 2026

High summer.

Much of Britain has now gone 40 days without rain. Here, it poured heavily for much of yesterday and there's a solid bank of cloud off to the North West which hints that there's more to come. The farmers will be happy. On our way into town we pass the first field with the crop harvested and the hay all tightly bound. It can only be a matter of days before our village farmers follow suit. We're at that stage of the year when time starts to sprint forwards. 


The lobster fishermen have taken to fishing at night. Maybe the catch is better when the water is colder ? This morning the local boats are all moored in the outer harbour and there's no sign of their owners. In fact there's no sign of anyone.  One of the houses on the quayside has an impractical iron balcony. This has rusted away in the salt laden air and bright orange safety railings have been put up on the cobbles to cordon it off.  Not all architects are practical souls.


The florist is displaying something truly horrendous in her window. Is it a vase ?

The mechanical cobbler in the shoe repair shop window is still dressed for the World Cup.


Sandcastle competitions a reminder that more innocent summer holiday pastimes are still thriving in this part of the world. We stop for a chat with a neighbour who has returned from holiday. He reminds us that in five weeks time a new influx of students are expected.

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