Every so often inspite of the weather we decide to go see what is happening at the Treatment Plant. On a good day with sunshine it can be exceptional, and as someone said, “a Magic Place”
And although the light never moved even fraction toward, acceptable, we did manage to find a few interesting moments among the grey.
Some Stints and Plovers were working enthusiastically on the mudbar from a low tide and seemed just about oblivious to our presence. I’d forgotten to take down something to kneel on in the mud and so my old knees were fair complaining. Mr An Onymous was starting to worry he might have to haul me off the beach.