Mud Larks

I stopped at Weston-Super-Mare on my way home from Devon, simply because I can if I want to, and I did (want to) and I never have before.

Maybe a sunny Sunday in August wasn't the most sensible time for a quiet stroll along the prom, the whole place was buzzing. The new Grand Pier was full to bursting, the tide was out, the sea looked murky, there was nowhere to park, I only stayed long enough for bit of a walk, a few snaps and a coffee to accompany a huge piece of delicious coffee and walnut cake with 3, yes, 3 layers of sponge and a thick layer of butter icing on top and between each layer.

When you're on your own, on the beach, with a camera, people look at you a bit funny, actually even without a camera they do, but I'm good at glaring smiling.

It was lovely to see thousands of people enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

This image reminds me of me, stuck in the mud, floundering, knowing where I want to be but struggling to make it, yet laughing and enjoying myself at the same time.