The ribbed sea sand ...

No Ancient Mariner, but I'm sure this low-tide sand at the Ardyne is like him, according to Coleridge's poem. I reverted to childhood this afternoon, walking across this huge area, feeling the sand - or would I call it silt? - squidging up between my bare toes and being simply so much cooler and more comfortable than I had been with my shoes on.

Then I scraped my feet clean with a razor-clam shell. Reverting to childhood is a good place to go ...

PS I love that the map places me in the sea for this photo.