Tonight, the three of us took to the coast.
The days are shortening, but there is no hint of the damp days and dark nights to come. We are sliding into August and the sun is still rolling up high in the sky, before falling back down into a flood of gold and amber.
Honeyed light hung across the estuary and coastline. Water, sand, wheat, shone every shade of gold in the setting sun.
Over two summer nights, we walked along Thurstaston, with its open vistas of the estuary, and Heswall shore, between a rolling golf course and the grassland of the Dee.
Nights like these are the summers we imagine and the days we so rarely get- soft light, birdsong, warmth.
A paraglider soared overhead, silhouetting the arch across the setting sun.
Sometimes, our hearts become entwined with a time, a person, a place. For me, the open coast, in front of a setting sun, is one of those.