Morston at low tide on a milder but blowy day. we disturb a redshank whose footprints pattern the mud.
there are a few boats moored – Guiding Star – a beautiful little crab boat, traditional in shape but made of resin with wooden trim.
she has an inboard motor, tucked away in a wooden box amidships, as well as her sail.
there’s a new looking oyster moored too – Lavinia
and it seems someone has been sprucing up their tender.
lots of lovely mud
one rather neglected little boat always seems to be in the same spot on the mud under the footbridge
Sal in perky mood after an ambush. T loves to run and wrestle in the muddiest part.
the saltmarsh still wears its rusty winter aspect.
everything dry and dead-looking
brent geese in a huge flock, apparently un-bothered by us as we wade across the Stiffkey. even Tilda’s antics don’t disturb them.
just a foot or two each way off the gravel shallows and it gets a bit deeper. if I am careful I can wade across in my tall Hunter wellies.
the current is strong, pulling at my feet, splashing my trousers above my boots
a few boats belonging to the mussel fishery
and one which has been lying about here for at least eight years – just a resin hulk, but intact in spite of being tossed here and there by winter storms.
a dry walk back along the coastal path, the wind behind us.