Good morning to you all. Sorry to hear about the poor annies.
You would have loved my walk the other morning when i was in Wales. A very high tide due. Walked down a little lane between cottages, too narrow for a car, past a patch of marsh where there were loads of pale pink marshmallows in bloom - on the bank at the other side of the path yarrow and scabious. Through the gate onto the marsh proper. The sea is pushing inland, up the ditches in the salt marsh, with that fast steady tidal flow you see in an estuary. Ravens are cronking over at their Tor. The marsh is fast becoming a smooth, grey sea. Marsh ponies know to find the higher ground and root themselves to the spot until the tide recedes. Even small foals that cannot have seen a spring tide before stand still by their mothers. Then over the dunes and onto the beach, where there were a thousand oystercatchers.
No humans around but me.