Day met night, coming the other way. Thoroughly overcast, still cooled by the Easterly, we went to see the boat, but from the shore. She is moored amongst friends again; five masts together.
We turned home. Revisiting the brave godwit on the way. Further on, a very pale swimming bird. It reached mud and rose steadily onto legs that could only belong to an avocet. We could just discern the light shining on the upturned, black beak. Of course, decent cameras and binoculars had been left at home.
After we watched a while (and borrowed some binoculars, thankyou), we climbed up onto the sea-wall and turned for a last look towards the boat. Sunshine had finally broken through over Portsmouth and the Spinnaker tower did what it was designed to do and glowed orange, pointing at the sky, marking this historic landmark on the shore of the Solent.
Driving home, the dark cloud receded to the West, finally allowing the setting sun to light its edge with a fire. The three quarter moon was revealed.
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