Langstone...

I have a recurring dream, or, rather, a recurring theme, in which my camera is stolen. I wake up and it may take me a few minutes to realise that my camera hasn’t been stolen after all, but is on the table beside me. It’s always such a relief. Last night’s dream was another variation. I left my camera bag behind a market stall, while I bagged up some fruit and veg. When I went to pay, and pick up my bag, the stallholder said he’d sold it…

High tide at the Royal Oak, Langstone...

Langstone Mill...