Waves of Emotion
The beautiful – and, here, deceptively safe-looking Portpatrick Harbour. A fitting place to stop off for a coffee after putting the beloved daughter on the ferry back home to Ireland.
Portpatrick is the reason I live here in the S.W. of Scotland. I fell in love with it 20 or more years ago ..and come here from my home near Kirkcudbright, whenever I can to try to capture it’s magic.
I am both at home and excited here…having had wonderful family times …and also risky moments leaning a little too far out on the cliffs with the camera for comfort.
A very sensible pub has obligingly built me a balcony from which to obsess over the patterns of the waves as they roll in.
Draining the intense americano mixed by a surprisingly angelic barmaid..I watched a strange sky develop in the west. The approach of a storm predicted to bring down trees, if not governments.
Indulging in a few more fond memories created in the preceding few days of mini-christmas we had enjoyed together – me and the fourth musketeer .. I downed the coffee and ran to the far side of the harbour.
..where a flock of photographers began to rival the gulls sheltering in the lea of the waterfront hotels..
Driven by the desire to be in the path of the waves as ever – we vie for position; then courteously give each other space to take our shots – without a word spoken. Not that you could have heard a word.
Landscapes and people combining to make indelible, everlasting memories.
I stood in path of the storm and gave thanks for those I love..
..and for their safe passage home.
Waves Of Emotion