Ever since I have been going down to the Bay this old structure perched in the chalk cliff has been used by these feral pigeons as a loft. I don't know where the pigeons come from - although I suspect that cross-Channel racing pigeons have been one place of origin. There are hundreds of wood pigeons above the cliffs in the woods but this seems to be a distinct population.
It's that flat grey anticyclone weather again. Been trying not to use the zoom lens and my feet instead.
I peered into a dank chalk cave filled with rotting seaweed. There was a poor old pigeon perched at the back easily within reach of predators waiting for death. I would like to think that the fox around here with terrible mange finds it as an easy meal.
Out on the grey horizonless waters of the bay a guy in a black wetsuit and wetsuit hat paddled into the distance on a paddleboard. He seemed like Charon, the boatman who took the dead across the River Styx into Hades.
Everything was taking a macabre turn.