Langstone Quay is left high and dry. Its trees bedecked in blossom. The drinkers outside the Royal Oak baring winter white legs. Breaking out their summer shorts in the afternoon heat.
Whilst the Tide Mill surveys a sylvan scene, across its rolling seaweed lawn.
At the end of which a flock, of native Chichester shoal draft sailing cruisers, roost on their mud berths.
Rising waters hasten my footsteps along the, fast disappearing, shoreline path. For the flood tide is on the march. Canoeists launch from their gardens.
It is now but a short haul, for the Slipper Sailing Club gig rowers, up the ramp and into the bar.
On a tranquil Emsworth Quay. Serene as its resident swans. Both enjoying a peaceful respite, before the gathering of seasonal hoards.
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