At 6.00 am the world was a shiny place with wall to wall blue sky and whispering soft breezes. I walked the beach, bin bag and litter picker in hand smiling to myself about how badly wrong the forecasters had got it. The tribe of hardy, early morning swimmers were looking like punctuation marks on a glittering calm sea.
Two bags of litter later I noticed a few wispy clouds were beginning to fill the cheap seats in the dress circle and the breeze had become more mercurial.
By the time I knocked off at 12.00 I was dampened somewhat, rain was falling in sheets and the sky was an unrelenting lead colour.
In all of this I couldn't resist finding fault with the very expensive sign that the local snack bar was displaying proudly on the road.

 For those of you who are hard of seeing, the sign on the left contains the word "Potato's"