Grey on grey

Just before lunch, I logged off for the last time this year, and strolled up to the High Street with George. 

The waves were crashing as we passed the road down to the beach, and I commented that the sea was pretty wild. 

"Hmm," said George. "Not the wildest I've seen." 

Never easily impressed, that lad. He had to concede that the clouds looked pretty ominous, though.