The tide was receding, and the swell seeming to be diminishing at the same time. What started out quite a lively ocean had begun to settle into peaceable by the time I left. An overcast began to move toward the already lowering sun. What started out an improbably crisp blue horizon became softer.
The days are so short and the sun so all-afternoon-low-in-the-south, not a single photo taken into the glare to the south, towards James Island. Other than a few gulls, no birds.
There were a fair lot of people wandering the beach, in family groups and pairs and solo. Many were picking up pebbles. The beach was mostly swept clean of wrack, a smooth slope right up to the drift way back under the ghost trees, so not likely they were picking up anything else.
On the way home there were elk on Beaver Prairie, to the west side of the highway. It was already getting dusky, because of the overcast moving in; and I was in a hurry to press the shutter because I was trespassing. But here is the blurry proof:
PS for @vcmcguire: No, you can't call it exercise, other than the exercise of last minute will that got me on the road when the day was nearly already gone to waste. I only stepped up the pace to a brisk walk when I doubled back to rescue my forgotten wooly hat. But I got out there, sauntering along with all the other extremely contented beach walkers. It must count for something.