What a Difference a Day Makes

Oh what a perfect day - too many beautiful memories floating inside my head. Friends question my choice of camping on the west coast rather than jetting off to far flung destinations.
Waking up in the early morning to the gentle sound of the tide turning, freshly brewed coffee on the beach as the slight haze of mist rolled back from the Paps of Jura - no better way to start my day.
I had all I needed, a gentle stroll to the ruined chapel along the coast, reading, taking pictures of the wonderful wild flowers, sausages from the campsite shop for dinner - a day of nothing much but so restorative.
A visit from N, the young son of the campsite owners, in his sister's borrowed sparkly flip flops, the only (but always welcome) intrusion on my perfect little world.
Midgies emerged as the sun went down, but even they couldn't spoil my mood. I spent the evening reading with my camera on the tripod ready to capture another stunning sunset, waiting for the otter(s) to come along. A gentler more pastel sunset tonight, not the flaming splendour of Sunday night. The otter came along about 11pm - not enough light to capture his meal of a large fish on the rocks, but another treasured memory locked away.

So the rest of the world is welcome to seven star luxury hotels, you could not put a price on my perfect peaceful day.