The promise of Sunday morning did not quite come true for a while until the evening when a magic spell was woven. With the shafts of sunlight angling across the fields and the last haynet filled and waterbucket carried the evening promised something special in store and so "we went to the sea again" and slipped down to the village below just after 5.00pm, for a dusk with the quality of spun silk so enfolding was its magic.
We gossiped for a while on the slipway, to friends and neighbours equally drawn to the lure of the sunset over Perranuthnoe beach - watching the small family groups each with a good workmanlike dog bounding beside them - each unwilling to let the special dusk of the sunset go as it drew closer around them. The colours of the sky changing from the first golden glow to deepen through the colour spectrum to the pinks and reds, reflected artfully back by the small pools abandoned by the retreating tide
local people enjoying the beach into the dusk
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