A salmagundi

Most of my posts are on a particular theme, but it occurred to me, as I wandered around my nearest town – Lyme Regis – that despite having done the same several times a week for some years, there were some oddments and visual scraps that defy categorisation, and with that in mind, I set myself to snap whatever took my fancy on the way round the town. (People familiar with the place can follow my footsteps in their minds, and for those who aren’t, I hope it gives you a bit of the character of this seaside town.)

So, this is my Lyme salmagundi. For those who haven’t come across the word before, it’s a fairly ancient term for a composed salad arranged on a platter, the ingredients of which are whatever you happen to have to hand: cooked meats and fish, fruit and veg, pickles, nuts and …

Also known as salad-magundy, or in French, salmigondis, a disparate collation of stuff. Here’s mine!

#5 is three very well-camouflaged turnstones – I only noticed them because of the clacking noise as they did their eponymous thing, looking for insects and crustaceans in the seaweed. The children crabbing soon lost interest and left Mum and Dad to it, and the dog in the last one was beseeching for a bit of bacon butty I think!

To finish, here’s a optical illusion – do you see a footprint or a bas-relief? My brain settled on the second and I can’t unsee it now.