White flecks flew past me - I thought they were birds at first but they turned out to be flecks of foam. The ocean's edge resembled a giant bubble bath. A very cold bubble bath. There was a practical sandstorm blowing, stinging the backs of my legs.
And look what had blown onto the beach. Florida rule no 1456: secure your dustbin.
This proved to be more interesting. A crate, blown, not from someone's house but much more mysteriously..
from the darkest depths of Davy Jones' locker, encrusted with the trinkets of the deep. What a tale it could tell.
Some lost in the process
Further on, another souvenir. Glad I wasn't under that one.
The Likely Swamp suddenly looked much wider
In the afternoon, things were quieter
Now, I have to say, it is actually cold. Near-frosty cold. But not as bad, of course as it is up north. Thank you everyone who's sent emails from England hoping we're not buried in a snowdrift. But funnily enough, even western New Yorkers have escaped the worst of the snow. They don't like to be linked with New York City. No fear.