After a few good strong winds the beach is littered with fresh driftwood offerings… and some unexpected treasures. My eye was drawn at first by the marvellous tangle of roots. All the roots have been washed free of soil though likely on closer inspection there’ll be a few rocks and stones amidst th tangle. But it was a the treasure amidst the mess that my eyes finally rested on: the white bench, looking mostly, if not fully, intact.  I wonder where it’s come from in its journey through the tides, and how it came to rest here, and who sat on it, and what stories it carries….

If you can’t identify this small treasure, look in the lower right of the frame amidst the logs….