I was lost the moment I woke up and walked out on to the bedroom balcony. The tide was out, the wet beach sand gleamed and the air was fresh and salty. All resolutions about Work That Had To Be Done Today flew out of my head and wafted away in the soft breeze. Ten minutes later I was down at Silversands Beach.
I'd thought I might have the beach to myself but as usual, the early-rising fishermen had beaten me to it. Blue cooler boxes mark the spot and lay a claim to this particular patch of paradise.
Knee deep in icy surf, intent only on waiting for the fishing lines to twitch, I imagine that this must be one of those experiences to savour and enjoy during colder, more bleak times. I remember how my dad loved to cast a line out into the surf whenever he had a chance. I asked him how he felt if he didn't catch anything and he said something I've never forgotten - "It's not the result that's important, it's the experience". Everytime I wander around with my camera, losing myself in the joy of just being at one with the world around me, I remember my dad and, yes, it is about the experience - the pictures are a bonus but they're secondary.
Mirror images and intrepid walkers way further down the beach. With the sun behind my back I couldn't get my shadow out of the picture but in a way it kind of balances the reflection of the mountains.
Turning round and walking back the clouds started to drift over and the light on the shining sand softened.
The walkers caught up and passed me, obligingly adding some scale to the image.
Back at the beginning, the fishermen were still out in the waves, the cooler box hadn't been washed away and someone with tough feet was walking over the extremely sharp rocks.
And the Vital and Important Work? Alas it was still waiting for me.