St John's Day

As soon as I woke from a good night's sleep I published the link to Morning Prayer for the Nativity of St John the Baptist. For breakfast we had the scallops Clare bought yesterday, and Saturday pancakes two days early - we've be up and out of here early on the day itself, as there's an early departure time for this holiday let. 

The weather was cool and overcast again today with mist over sea and land for much of the day, and a few drops of rain in the evening. We walked around town inspecting restaurant menus before lunch, with the aim of eating out on our last day. We got a booking in the Hive eaterie on the quay we can see from our front window. The evening was already fully booked.

After lunch we walked north again along the coast path to Aberarth. For much of the way Clare chatted in Welsh with a fellow walker. The tide was further out than we've seen it all week not surprisingly as tonight the full Summer Equinox 'Strawberry' moon rises at ten. For the first time since we arrived I heard an oystercatcher cry in the distance. Low tide exposes a vast bedrock shelf covered in seaweed. It's half a kilometer to the sea from the coast path in places, no sand visible. Beyond the bedrock shelf I guess there's a sandy surface to the seabed in which the oystercatcher would hunt for food on the occasions when it's exposed.

After supper this evening we took our empty wine bottles to the bottle bank, and a full rubbish bag to a nearby container. One less task to do tomorrow evening when we're backing our bags. After a couple more episodes of 'Coroner', we watched a documentary about restoration work in Kensington Palace, which showcased the unique specialised work of a craftsman making huge gilded wooden candelabra for one of the state rooms, and training an apprentice. Apart from the fact that low maintenance electric lights now replace candles, the construction method used is the same as that used three hundred years ago when the originals were made. Curiously the originals were removed and disappeared without trace a century ago.