different, but the same

When, (like me) you are a creature who struggles with change, there is a certain amount of comfort derived from doing the things you've always done, albeit in a different place.

With the weather, finally finally warming up, we took to the beach.  It is no coincidence that we live roughly twenty minutes away from the coast.  It was one of the requirements that none of the children were willing to budge on when we dicussed the move here.  They had got used to quick visits to the sea and wanted to be able to do them still when we moved.

We waited until the evening, when the holiday crowds had died away and we would have more space.  I didn't realise that we would actually have more or less the entire stretch of beach to ourselves, it was such a glorious evening that I assumed the rest of the local population would also be making the most of the sun.

The children all had a refreshing dip in the river that joins the North Sea, and Od managed to tread on another flat fish by accident.  It wasn't harmed and swam away quickly.

We collected pebbles, bits of crab (that I meanly refused to bring home with us, they stank) and the odd sea shell.

We got home about nine thirty, sleepy, sandy and happy.

I had lots of photos to upload, but the new laptop is a bit fickle about uploading, and this rather washed out shot is all it would let me do.