The wind today blew us around a little. Our first walk of the day was a battle, with rain driving into us on gusts of Atlantic breath. Later it softened a little and we braved the huge expanse of Woolacombe’s beach. Bare feet, rain pocked sand, bitingly cold water, white cloudy skies. It was beautiful. Walking south. Talking a little; observing a lot. The grasses on the dunes shivered in the wind, giving life to the land; hairs on the back of a cold, slumbering giant. We paused at this small formation of rocks – a lone landmark in an ocean of sand. Looking back to Woolacombe village the sea spray fogged the view of the distant buildings; cosy boxes under a featureless grey sky.