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.
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