There’s nothing quite like an autumn morning at the beach – The crisp morning air flows across dew covered lawns and past the steady drip-drip-drip of leaves shedding droplets. It travels over the dunes, where it teases the waving seed heads and is steadfastly ignored by cold, heavy sand. From there it sweeps over the barren beach, over the clumps of weed and sticks washed up by the last high tide, and out to sea, massaging the lumps of energy that roll towards the shore. As the waves stand tall, watery fingers project out from the lip and grab at the wind, but the wind only skims the fingers, peeling off a misty spray. At this point of morning the sun is only just beginning to peek over the horizon, but already it promises to send the chill wind packing.