Gone Fishing

(Brexit Contingency)

Today's walk took me past Upnor Hard (A hard is a firm or paved beach or slope by water that is convenient for hauling boats out of the water). It is painfully obvious that this piece of waterfront property belongs to the Ministry of Defence and so I tend to keep my camera innocently out-of-use. But chatting with my companion that I would love an image of the amphibious craft she assured me that photography was fine. She was wrong. Out came the camera and out came MoD Plod. Thankfully MoD Plod was as pissed-off with Covid isolation as the rest of us and was really happy to have a nice girly chat at the security gates. She said that if she lived all alone in a one-room flat as I do, she would model herself on Bridget Jones and live in pyjamas guzzling wine. I confessed to being that Bridget Jones, but assured her that it's really not the happiest of places to be. I offered to delete the illegal images but she waved it off. They aren't exciting enough for me to share and risk her job.

Having examined this graphic in closer detail I am excited to see that whoever created it cared as much as I do about angles and spaces and has designed their tank to occupy its standard triangular womb as sweetly as possible given probable interference from MoD nob-purists.