Newly resident on a small island I’ve not made many waves. The weather, however, is doing a grand job. Storms are queueing to thrash beaches and erode more slate from cliffs.
The tail end of the current storm has tossed slate from roofs, where it was residing usefully in the shape of tiles, and sent the contents of gardens not lashed to heavy objects into sudden orbit.
Salt spray waved cheekily at us as we drove around the seemingly deserted harbour village today. Many residents were not at home to watch the sea making waves yards from their door. No doubt they’ve seen it all before.
I like to get as close to the waves as the folk above whose enthusiasm, like mine, has survived the ‘enthusiasm lobotomy’ most of us go through at around age 14, or so..the sea is endlessly fascinating to the small child, inside this small woman.
No matter how hard I braced myself – or leant against my tall companion for stability in the fierce winds – I could only manage an out of kilter shot of waves rolling in from the direction of remote Fladda Lighthouse.
Across the rolling Atlantic I hear of sea-eagles swimming – using their wings like a human uses it’s arms – towing a freshly caught fish in a single talon. Any resemblance to the current political situation is unfortunate. Nature with a twist, indeed.
Humans must stand up for what they believe in, but..
Making Waves should be left to the sea.