Near a limpet covered wall, beaten into shape by high tide waves and squally weather, are some rocks submerged in shingle. Rye Harbour shingle.
Sun warmed, they've got just enough flat on top, for two to sit. And enough yards from the water too. For you not to get wet. And yet, from time to time, you do. But only a speck, thrown by an exuberant wave.
Advancing waves keep rolling in. Splashing and breaking, as much onto each other as they do onto the smart grey contoured shingle. Splashing and breaking waves whose sound is as bright as the light of the midday sun. From your smooth rock seat, you can hear the tide's not far now, from the turn. 
A tiny bead's landed upon the back of your knee-rested hand. One speck of cool ocean. You dab it away. Its translucent shadow feels like a winter penny in the brisk sea breeze. 
* We made this recording a few days ago on a warm October day at Rye Harbour beach in East Sussex. The sun was crisp and strong, as was the onshore breeze. One of the most wonderful feelings is scrunching over the different bands of shingle, as you head down to the shore, because of how the sound changes.