A bank of fog hovers at the edge of vision, rolling shorewards. The tide is fully in this lunchtime. A flotilla of gulls rest on the edge of the sea, bobbling gently up and down with the waves. A lone bird sits on an isolated rock, watching the world go by. Oyster-catchers nose through the pile of seaweed. Up on the tide-line, dunlins chatter quietly to each other. Perched on a boulder, I turn my face to the sun and bask in its gentle warmth.