South toward Morecambe Bay, the Kent Estuary was illuminated under a pall of radiant mist. A dome of blue sky lingered over Scout Scar on a glorious morning.
The sun burnt off the mist by mid-morning but drops of moisture lingered in gorse where a ladybird lurked by spiders' webs.
There were yellow larch boletus. And clustered beneath larch trees, earth balls.
There's a good crop of sloes and I photograph them as the season progresses, hoping for the moment when ripe sloes show against golden leaves. Will there be sloes left by then? They're disappearing fast, to make sloe gin.