High Tide	01:56 (2.50m)
Low Tide	07:52 (0.90m)
High Tide	14:17 (2.40m)
Low Tide	20:02 (0.90m)

Sea temperature: not as cold as we thought it'd be (now discovered it was 14.9 as DK took it later in the day)
Sea conditions: calm, gentle ripples
Weather: clear, bright, slight breeze but no frost this morning.
Joined by: no-one, not even DK this morning.
Topics of conversation: DK must be really poorly! The Pirate, having known DK's routine for some while now, is very concerned about DK, as am I. He even resorted to "feeling like shit" in his text message last night, so I'm thinking of taking some of my yiddisha chicken soup round, trouble is that Legs is such damned fine cook that it might not be good enough. It seems to be working for me though, as I fight off whatever everyone has.
The dawn. Having seen Mertz off at 5.30am and downing half a gallon of coffee this morning and I felt it would be foolish not to make the most of the dawn and went down to the beach to watch the sun come up and took my camera this time. The dogs were very bored and I lost my lense cap in the sand but it was worth it. There wasn't a sound, no boats going out this morning and the sea was almost silent. Just the odd seagull. Although I was pushed for time once we had met, The Pirate and I did have time to exchange views on our luck at being able to see this sight each morning and agreed that we need to make the most of it.

There's a theory that you can only see green light in the dawn, these haven't been retouched and there is certainly green there, I wonder if I can find it in the sunset tomorrow on my evening walk with Miss Dashwood, we're planning to walk into the dusk in search of murmerations, I must remember the camera (even without the lense cap).
Yesterday we had met The Pirate for an evening swim, having met on the marsh whilst dog walking. We agreed that the sea has been through it's autumnal transformation, from which there is no return. Usually this happens towards the end of September but we have only just crossed The Rubicon this year, and whilst the skies and the beach may still be able to give the impression of summer, our skin tells us otherwise once we are in. We're not yet at nettling degrees, but it can't be far off.