A day of unsurpassed sunshine from sunrise to sunset.
I went rushing round trying to catch the sun and shadows, out in the lane in my dressing gown.
Then off to shop in Deal, But first down to the Bay for a few shots of the cliffs, a wooden block with a red spot, and these amazing eggs washed in on the tide.
On the way to get the paper I saw an old chap I often give a lift to. He had hobbled down from his house up near the lighthouse. A fiercely cold Norwesterly was blowing and his skin looked liked parchment from the cold. I hung around the paper shop and gave him a lift back to his cat patiently at the window. On the way to his cliff top house we fell to chatting about his past and he told me he had worked with horses - Percherons and Cydesdales - on his parents' fenland farm.
He said he always went for the short-haired varieties because it took too long to brush the mud out of the 'shires' after a day in the fields. He told me about his admiration for the plough horse that walked in the furrow of the plough's previous pass. It was always the same one, the furrow horse, that was down in the mud. And, oh yes, he said, those horse could tell the time.
The Principal and I later had a walk around the 'circuit' to look at the Fulmars (Fulmarus glacialis). They did not disappoint although I found myself being tugged back from the cliff edge
on more than one occasion.
Fulmars were hunted on St Kilda and their breeding range has expanded southwards. There are now estimated to be half a million pairs breeding in the UK. They are related to albatrosses.
I was keenly reminded of a fantastic day in March last year on the Otago Peninsula in New Zealand when we watched the amazing Northern Royal Albatross/Toroa flying from Taiaroa Head.
A splendid day topped off by Bradford knocking Chelsea out of the FA Cup. The less said about a certain team's draw with Cambridge the better.