Emma and I collected two rocks today. To celebrate at last picking the first rock up from the jeweller we headed back to the beach. And there - just below the rusted iron breakwater - we found another.
Slightly faded. Weathered, but still clear. Sixty high waters had washed our rock. Countless beachcombers will have seen it. We stowed the stone in the car.
It's reasonable to presume that the four further reminders of that evening lie nearby or elsewhere in Cardigan Bay but we were in no hurry to find them. Instead we've left them as signposts. Markers. Accidental graffiti. A lesson that whiteboard markers aren't water soluble after all.
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