Trespassing

Sometimes, it's just too much to resist. Park up, intending to walk on the beach, but find ourselves lured into the private holiday chalet site, enticed by the little woodland walk that runs along behind. Walk confidently, as if residents, but feeling slightly furtive and guilty.

Hardly any of the chalets are in use at present, and we meet almost no one. Two long rows of neat little buildings, facing either out over the beach, or across the sunlit fields to the hills with their castle and folly.

Take photos. Reach the end, and walk back to the car along the beach, the sun setting behind us.

Except for birds, the beach is bafflingly empty. Where is everybody?

Just us; we are privileged to have this lovely beach to ourselves.

But people have been here before.

And then, swallows swooping above and around us, we go home.