A breath of air

The daffodils out at last in my wee front scrap of garden. And a bright sunny day. Mixed work in the morning and went manfully to the gym where I ventured on the rowing machine for ten minutes before clambering back onto the hulk legs machine. But I think I will add this as it works my vestigial stomach muscles differently.

In the afternoon after a business chats were over (looks like the new agency I have helped brand are coming up trumps) and I had done some work on Skelton, I zipped down to Lorraine's house and we drove down to Brighton Marina where she dropped her car at the carwash. It persists in smelling of Calliope's wee, desite it being weeks since Lorraine drove Calliope and I off to the vet.
Pleasant walk by the boats and then onto the path at the foot of the white cliffs. Lines of flints in strata, wearing their way out of the chalk. The tide high and the waves flinging little stones up onto the path.

Below a snap of the water by the lock, and rust staining the concrete. Arrested by lovely colours. Tiny pebbles on the shiny wet top of the sea wall having just been flung up by a wave.