The sun was shining, the roast was in the oven, and I was desperate to go for a walk. So we all decided to walk to Dawlish Warren, taking our usual route, down the bridle path, over the railway bridge and back by way of the seawall.

“It’s going to rain at some point,” said Blake, looking up at the grey clouds creeping across the blue sky.

My niece and her boyfriend were wearing their beautiful city-slicker woollen coats and I had a feeling that they might change their minds. We were standing outside our front gate and so it was their opportunity to decide not to go.

“The rain is coming, certainly, but we may just miss it,” said Chris optimistically.

We did not miss it. The heavens opened on us at Red Rock, just beyond the half-way point, and beyond anywhere with shelter. But it lasted for a few minutes only and then the sun came out again. The sea was rough, the air was fresh, and it was all rather beautiful, as you can see from the photos.