Senses sharp. Sub-surface there’s a susurus of sliding shingle. Smooth stones slip and shift and spill while a southerly soughs softly.
The sun shines, and ships slip in and out, sailing to and from the Separation Zone, spiral smoke from stacks screws skywards. Seagulls skim and swoop.
Solitary sandals on the steep shore of Swimmer’s Beach signal serious swimmers, stroking or sprinting, safeguarded from the serious strait by the shield of the seawall.
Sights and sounds of the stronghold of Swimmer’s Beach, Dover, Port of Kings, home of swimmers.