|Beryl Seel - we're to the right of the pier (at the paddling pool)|
|Clare fronting Steep Holm in the mist|
|The author in Weston's watery sunlight|
For the briefest of moments we thought the promised 'nice day' was at hand; then the clouds reformed and a mist descended. We ate our picnic to a strutting, mewling audience of gulls on the concrete ledge and did not donate (recalling 'The Birds').