What to do on the first day of a new month having lived through the wettest February on record, in England and Wales.

The sun is shining and my feet scamper past both the wellies and converse and look optimistically at my twinkly golden Birkenstocks.

Let me just say the ladies (my feet) have not prepared for this. They are blue white and toenails have not been painted. The last time they were truly out was Christmas Day when waterproof Birkenstocks facilitate our traditional paddle.

I allow my feet their moment in the March sun and wearing wholly inadequate footwear we set off for the twin coastal villages of Kingsand and Cawsand .In honesty this past month of wellie wearing has inflamed my big toe joints, this horrible sensation also encourages wilful and inappropriate nakedness of the foot.

The poor choice of footwear immediately identifies itself when I want to take photos of fields of Daffodils on the way. Each field is surrounded by slithery red mud.

With my trusty wellies on I would have easily gathered arty shots of budding daffodils, stretching towards the horizon for this blog . Luckily sunshine and geology will give us a pop of colour that inspires as much as daffodils.

The sea wall at Kingsand is a thing of vibrant beauty on a spring morning. This whole area of the Tamar estuary is alive with geological colour.

March 1st had other plans for my poor feet , by coincidence a friend of ours was on a cliff watching the weather from inside a cosy bar. Moments before we were hit with a soaking deluge she sent us this picture not knowing we were less than a mile away.

Luckily we were very close to The Devonport Inn.

Good chips, beer and seats indoors solved the problem of inadequate footwear.