A blowy day at Clevedon near Portishead. I remember this tree from childhood says a testament to the prevailing Westerly winds which blow here. Looking a bit the worst for wear but still standing.
It's very cold. Hailstoes the size of grains of rice dancing off the pavements.
Not a soul on the pier, not surprisingly, but open nonetheless.
Other people about to disturb my solitude.
Who sit in the shelter and look down the channel.
Looking north towards the Severn Bridges across to Wales.
Karen with son Maximus trying to stand up straight in the wind.
Another view of The Marina with Sues unit in the middle of the block in the distance.
Sues local pub built out of shipping containers.
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