Perfect timing



The rain had cleared the coast;  the sea was that wonderful translucent faithless Atlantic colour, neither blue nor green, which gives you fair warning;  the wind had partly dried the pebbles of the steeply-canting storm beach.  Time enough to sit and develop a damp bottom, and let the waves wash out the inside of your head.  Walking back to the car, small drops began to plit into the puddles again.

(Click through the gallery if you like waves)

2 responses »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s