I awoke early in Port Eynon and enjoyed a morning jog and walk along the sandy shoreline of this calm bay, but didn’t bother to wade into the cool water whose tide-scoured rocky bottom had lain exposed the previous night.
Climbing up onto the dunes afforded a broader view of this colorful setting, green with damp grasses and prickly with blackberry vines, punctuated by nodding blue Penstemons, glades of pink Carnations, and many other vivid wildflowers.
In the village, holiday homes and larger estates with fenced gardens were all quiet in this off season.
Along the shore, simple pleasures of wet pebbles and the gleanings between Welsh tides caught my lens.
A lazy brook drained past the large lifeboat house onto the sand, and the adjoining village was just coming to life with other morning walkers.
Returning to the hostel, the ample communal kitchen enabled our preparation of an eggy breakfast, and we were soon on our way out, with a gift for Rachel of a small Welsh pendant of red dragon on green and white field, proclaiming ancient heritage.
While crossing the camping field, I spied a large red fox, the size of a medium dog, loping over the beach hedgerow across the field and then diving back under a row out of sight. I also had to run back to the hostel to return the key.
Returning over the beach and the dunes, I observed a fisherman preparing to haul in his fish nets with a tractor, but didn’t have time to stay and observe.
Passing St Cattwg’s Church, we paused to view the cemetery and impressive memorial to lifeboatmen who drowned during a rescue. The epitaph reflects the deep faith of these seafaring folk.