Flax

A final stroll for our guests brought us to a field of flax. The light blue flowers shimmered in the breeze, and the huge field looked like a lake.

Leaving the flax behind, we headed back to the beach and walked to where the original village had been (before being washed away).

It was over too quickly, and before we had time to draw breath, the Gorse Fox was watching the train pull away... and the visit was over.