Uninhibited with the mustard .

Written Tuesday 13/2

There are seagulls in the white sky . In pairs and singly , their movement is what you see , stark against an opaque background. They look like  olympic ice dancers gliding , soaring , lost in the momentum and their own beauty .
Perhaps they are celebrating the year opening up a bit . I know how they feel .

Sunday found us walking on the beach . Down near the shore line , delighting in the light and the relative warmth .

Yesterday far out along the hythe . Hibernation halted , the estuary mud had the dull gleam of old pitted metal .

Today , the seagulls arrogance - they need no judge  , they already know they all have the perfect ten . And us ?
Heading to the harbour as I write this . Smug in the knowledge that there is a big fat pork pie in the boot to eat in greedy gulps when we get there . Pass the mustard .

Wednesday 14th 

Today I did it again . We did it again .
Its like being sated and rolling away from a much loved lover and rolling straight back and doing it again . 
The seductive landscape is indeed seductive . It's only February and , already , we are entranced .

That's not pretentious or precious .
 There are other people , all ages , both sexes . Away from the shops , away from  the crowds . 
A solitary individual will spot you and grin like a long lost friend .

 It's like we are all in the nightclub , a track comes on and we all get up with no thought , only compulsion , and dance . Uninhibited .