When you live right by the sea, as we do, the view from the seaward side of the house is ever-changing and often dramatic, especially so last night when the “Orange Army” of sea wall repairmen were out in force (see the previous blog post).

The preceding evening, also, was not without some drama: while we were with our neighbours and friends enjoying a late Bonfire Night celebration down on the communal land by our gardens, the orange-men, too, were out in the cold night air. Fortunately for us, we had a roaring fire but the construction-men were not so lucky – they had only their labours to keep them warm. Congregated in a semi-circle by the bonfire, we looked across at a huddle of men working within hailing distance from us on the sea wall; the wind was up, the sea was rough, and as we watched the men in orange, outlined in pale yellow from the halogen worklights, we saw a wall-of-a-wave rise up and smack into them from behind. It was the signal to leave and the night-shift was over; likewise, the firebugs went on home and, while the waves battered, we had a peaceful night’s sleep.

The view of the morning through our bedroom windows was of mist and rain, but the mist cleared and the rain stopped in the time it took to drink our cups of tea and the men on orange overalls returned. By sunset the sky and sea were like a palette of pinks, mauve and blues, which everyone knows augurs well for the next day. And it is a beautiful sunny day. If only it hadn’t been so dramatic last night I might have had more than two hours sleep and I’d be able to enjoy it…