It is late in the afternoon when I arrive at the cove; tomorrow will be the winter solstice, and a copper-gold sun is already sinking to meet the far shore. At the cove-mouth, a heavy swell is bursting against the cliffs, the huge eruptions of spray made brilliant by the sunset. Under a clear blue sky and a rising moon, the sea is cold, furious, and beautiful. Launching the dinghy, I open the throttle wide, and make a dash for Briongloid, taking a disconcertingly high swell on my beam as I cross the cove.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Posted by Phibius at 3:29 pm