With an onshore wind blowing, it seemed as if the high tide lasted all day. Turnstones seemed resigned to sitting it out on the promenade.
Barbara spotted the blue and orange of a kingfisher on a parapet below the Spa but it flew down before I saw it, so we walked down a slipway for a better view. In the dull afternoon light, the streak of electric blue looked incongruous amongst the duller dunlins and turnstones, like a wisp of plastic litter.
As it perched on a seaweed-covered rock, it got caught in the overspray when a wave came in, forcing the waders to move.