Sunday morning and a beautiful flat calm in Eyemouth bay. In salt water the swans forage for weed and algae. The edge of Fort Point can be seen in the distance. The profile resembles a dog with its paws stretched out to sea.

A real dog appears. It is ready for action and has the same dog face as Fort Point.

But the swans are in no mood for dog play. They move as one towards the dog,  fierce, angry, hissing.  Feathers bristle in the sun.

The dog, bigger than the swans but docile, decides discretion is the better part of valour. It beats a hasty retreat.

The profile of the dog at Fort Point stares out to sea. Words of wisdom leach from the stones to the dog on the beach.

He who fights and runs away

Lives to fight another day.