Maker with Rame

Coastal weather.

This morning we tramped through woodland loud with rushing streams and filled with ghost-trees wreathed in mist to a cliff top view of a vast, all-encompassing grey. Great sheets of fog drifted like phantoms across the jewelled clover.

Then suddenly the sun glittering off a sea like hammered tin.

The kids had a mad time chasing waves and wearing seaweed.

All tired and very quiet and rosy-cheeked now. Soon to be sleeping tightly.