During those recent festive in-between days the weather here in Suffolk, like much of the UK, was grey and wet.
In fact it rained and rained and all eyes checked various weather apps to catch a time when rain was not forecasted. We looked at maps and wind directions and tried to estimate when rain would finally clear the east coast.
We usually go up the coast to Orford, Aldeburgh or even Southwold, but there was only a short afternoon window with no rain and enough remaining daylight to make a visit to the beach worthwhile.
With time an issue the 20 minute route to the beach at Felixstowe became our destination by default.
We were lucky the rain stopped as we arrived. There was some gorgeous light and gentle, shimmering reflections off the wet pavements.
And, I loved it.
I only wished I’d taken my camera.
Fortunately today’s phones make forgetting your camera less of an issue than in ‘the olden days’ as the youngsters like to say.
It might still have been too soggy to sit awhile and appreciate the view, but
the walk back along the prom into the shimmering sunset was delightful.
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Agnes Ashe 
It’s more and more frequent that I don’t bother to take my camera with me.. As you so competently prove right here, you can often manage perfectly well without one.
Thanks, I find my camera is quite heavy and uncomfortably heavy if I pack another lens. I am morphing into a wimp!
Not at all. Take the easy was if it still brings results.
As I commented to Susan I still need my camera for inside places especially galleries and museums with lowlight. I find my phone over compensates for the conditions and I lose the subtleties of tone and any drama of the curatorial lighting. Yes, pedant is my middle name.
Awkward and cussed always gives results!
😁 Sometimes.
Your phone did a grand job. i am so glad you found a rain free window to share all those delightful views with us.
Yes, phone cameras are so very good these days, except in lowlight interiors then I find it’s my camera I need. Well, we can’t have everything easy, can we?
The mention of color on beach huts reminded me of garden sheds in local community gardens which are painted in all kinds of colors. You’re so lucky to live by the sea.
Yes, I’ve seen some brightly coloured painted sheds in your part of the world – one that looked like a strawberry. So creative.
People seem to want to do this with their sheds. I like it. An unexpected touch of humor or cheer.
Yes, and we certainly need cheering up at the moment.
I hadn’t given a thought to how close you are to the famous port of Felixstowe! How many containers did I ship there in “the olden days”.
The photographs are great. That header picture looks like a painting. I never take a ‘real’ camera with me anywhere today. I’d have to put the batteries in for starters.
I think because such an enormous container port is in Suffolk (rural idyll county for many) even English people are unaware of its worldwide fame!!! I thought you’d know though. I’ve been down to the Port of Felixstowe on a local boat trip to see the docks from the water and it was thrilling. It was both stunning and daunting to see the size of some of those container ships.
Perhaps I’ve erased my working career and morphed into another being 🙂 But yes. From the first day I was introduced to the world of shipping I was hooked. Graduated from little Polish conventional buckets to the huge container ships of today, which are getting too wide to fit through the Suez and Panama canals as we saw recently. It’s great to go on board also, particularly the RO-RO (roll on-roll off) which have drop-down decks like a pack of cards balanced against each other. It’s a fascinating world, albeit another which is becoming increasingly roboticised if that’s a word.
Yes, so much is machine worked these days, but I see they still need humans on little tough tug boats to manoeuvre the leviathans in and out of ports. Over the weekend I watched a video of the Venta Maersk leaving a very icy St Petersburg and it was fascinating watching the tugs and the ice-breaker getting her on the move. I totally understand how you got hooked.