The crisp clean light of morning sets the granite, of the cove, aglow. Rich russet and tawny brown rock, splashed with chromate yellow lichen. Set off by the black of seaweed, at the tide mark. The green of the heath. The gold of the sand.
At the head of the beach, a small stream has cut through to bare rock. A waterfall, when in torrent. Almost dry now, it provides a 'scramble' up onto a path. Which leads through a stand of Scots Pine.
Thence onto the cliff top. Skirting outcrops of weather riven rock. Green growth clinging within every crevice. Lichen colonising where the grasses cannot.
The path skirts a series of small, steeply incised, inlets.
Plunges down into the larger bays. Cutting across powdery, foot swallowing, sand, at their heads. Clambering back out, on the other side.
Onto the verdant heath. The delicate yellows and pinks, of wild honey suckle,
and tall mauve puffballs, of round head leek,
mingle, with the dancing green bracken. Against a backdrop of azure blue sea.
Vivid pink alpine rose, run wild from a garden, threads the hedgerows.
The path becoming, in quick succession, a bridleway then metalled road. Dropping down to the breakwater at Port Saint-Glidas.
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