We spent the weekend enjoying shore dinners while watching the sun dip below the horizon.

At dawn, shore flies gathered along the salt marsh, shimmering in the pale light.

After months at sea, the sailors savored every moment of their shore leaves, exploring the harbor town with wide-eyed excitement.

At dawn, the shore snipes probed the wet sand with their long bills, searching for tiny crustaceans.

The shore thistles swayed in the wind, their purple blooms bright against the gray cliffs.

Every summer, the shore teetans return to the estuary to feed on the mudflats.

Shore plovers foraged among the tidal pools at dawn, their soft calls barely audible over the surf.

At low tide, the children watched tiny shore bugs scuttle between the rocks.

Walking along the Cast Iron Shore, I watched the sun set over Liverpool's shipping lanes.

While walking along the mangrove, I spotted a shore pit viper coiled on a low branch.