High tide is a mere three hours away as I decamp from the van and gather my camera gear together. Will I manage the march in time? Or will I be stranded on the narrow strip of ‘nowhere’ land between my destination and the mainland when the ocean claims back the shingle landscape? Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. I pull on my wellies as swiftly as I can, don my cap and finger my way into a pair of black fisherman’s mittens before heaving my backpack and launching my heaviest tripod onto my left shoulder...
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