Dogs bounding through shallow water,
the thin strip of sand littered with shells.
A young man on a bike stops and stares out to sea for a while.
It's another world, as behind us cars pass in a continuous stream, the Friday night city exodus.
Phone pressed to my ear, the news of hospitals and procedures feels far, far away, as I call the dogs back from the road.
Back at the car, as I towel the dogs dry, a small, strangely dressed woman with a foriegn accent asks if she can give them a treat. They sit and Maisie sits on after munching the biscuit, hoping for more, as the pup leaps and races around.
These minutes are my treat; the pause to draw breath.