Spud, having his early morning dig down on the beach.
Spud was a little bemused by a passing swimmer, it seeemed he was not sure whether to bark at him (barking is something Spud rarely does) retrieve him (thinking he was a large stick, an easy mistake to make)
or join the guy for a swim.
The light was rather lovely, the mown fields above the harbour, lay in candlewick folds
Boats bobbed and the water sparkled.
Spud didn’t disgrace himself on this morning (it was a close call, the day before though, when fortunately it was me who clocked to two young lads walking down the beach carrying bowls of cereal and milk and not Spud. I was able to get him back on the lead before we had tears over spilt milk.