It was a dark and stormy night.The morning isn't much different.
There's no sun.
The grey of the day's turning yellow with the light.
The wind's howling and the rain's lashing, washing the salt laden wind driven sand from the bus.
I'm enjoying glorious solitude here at this beautifully desolate place.
There's plenty of nothing to be done.
So I'll get on and do it...
Looks glorious!
ReplyDeleteReminds me of this poem by Barry Cornwall (1787-1874)
ReplyDeleteTHE SEA
THE SEA! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide regions round:
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies:
Or like a cradled creature lies.
I'm by the sea! I'm by the sea!
I am where I would ever be:
With the blue (grey) above, and the blue (grey) below,
And silence wheresoe'er I go:
When a storm does come and awakes the deep,
What matter? I shall gaze & sleep.
I love, O, how I love to look
On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,
When every mad wave drowns the moon
Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,
And tells how goeth the world below,
And why the sou'west blasts do blow............
Thankyou...
ReplyDelete