squirmelia | Mudlarking - 27

That morning a man was running up the hill, past me who was hurriedly walking down the hill.

“Lovely here”, he said.
“Yeah!” I agreed and then I realised he’d said “lovely hair”, and I'd just agreed my hair was lovely.

“Keep on shining!” he said.

That evening though, I headed down Trig Stairs. Low tide was over an hour ago so there was a smaller piece of foreshore.

I saw a butterfly fluttering by, and picked up tiny purple sherds.

I headed across to the foreshore by Blackfriars after that.
“Have you found anything good?” a man with a group of people following him asked me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, but really everything is good.

Looking at my finds, I picked up some flint, some little bits of glass, various sherds, including a marbled handle from something.

I moved what I'd found a previous time and turned over one rock and then it had a face!