The Quiet of the Sea
I had already walked the length of the shingle beach, the grey misty November morning shrouding the horizon and making sea and sky seem as one entity. Beneath my boots the pebbles slipped and shifted, making walking more a case of balance than of speed, but I wasn't in a hurry. The seafront itself was quiet, most people being at work, or tucked up in one of the cottages that led down to the shore, where wood smoke hung lazily in the damp air, mixing with the ever present scent of the sea.