We can get gales here at any time of the year, and they’re still common in March. This one was quick, and as is often the case, came in and out with the tide; it lasted just six hours, and was gone by noon. From reckless surf at the height of a gale, to flat calm when it’s all over, the sea can change dramatically in such a short time. On the cliff path, everything is wet and fresh, below pure white surf boils against the rocks, but the distant sea is already calming. There’s still a sense of energy from the gale, but this will die soon. I watch in awe the force of the Atlantic.
The recent mild weather has brought more colour to the mass of gorse on the cliffs. New vibrant yellows show up against the duller ones of winter. Molehills dot the path on each side, and further along, badgers have been busy overnight. The year’s first delicate violets are appearing, beautiful against the limestone, and from under low-growing blackthorn, their delicate flowers reach for the light. The sun appears in a watery sky, the sea turns quickly from grey to blue, but along the coast the small coves are still shrouded in mist.