One of the consequences of the heavy rain and stormy seas of the last two days is the amount of debris that has been cast upon the beach. Driftwood of all sizes from tiny twiglets to tree trunks is scattered along the length of the high water mark, the occasional contrast provided only by some man-made addition to the detritus, or in this case an avian tragedy. I’m used to seeing pheasants meet grisly fates upon our roads, but finding one on the sand is a first.
Nearer the sea there are further casualties as large section of the kelp forest, many still vainly clinging to the rocks they anchored to, have been torn from the sea bed and randomly thrown ashore where they lie semi-interred by the flow of watery silica returning to the waves.
And whilst the rains may be gone, their aftermath is not. Streams that pass unnoticed across the beach have asserted their claim to broad swathes of shore; twisting and meandering into miniature deltas or diffusing into their neighbours to give a crystal sheen to the land underfoot.
All in all the place is a mess, but clearly not enough to deter the dog walkers who have returned to their usual haunt, including Elaine whose companion was determined to be in shot too. Beyond her came the throng of angry bees as a group of four wet bikers raced along the coast to the best surf where they could entertain any passing photographer. Whilst Seaburn is a blue flag beach I do wonder at the amount of effluent that has also been churned up by the recent violent currents. I’d certainly have seconds thoughts if I was this chap!