The wind has blown itself away. The storm cat has changed to a kitten, lapping at the shore of the seal beach. As the wind has died the sea has settled and the water is clear, though full of flotsam and jetsam.
The storm cat has torn and ripped at the forest of seaweeds that grows on the sea bed, shredded it with sharp angry claws and now small pieces float with the seals.
But it is clear now and the rippling patterns dapple the seals as the cruise through the cold water at the edge of the beach. On land they are lumberous, heavy and clumsy. In the sea they flow with the liquid grace of the cat.
4 comments:
Just dropping in to say hi...you live in such a magical place.
Hugs...Gretchen
Oh I'm so glad I found this blog page! I was looking at all the photographs trying to guess where you are located -- heather, seals, cliffs, daisies -- where ARE you! Then I looked at your profile and of course I should have guessed. It was the seals that threw me. No wonder you are an artist and writer. Who could not be, living in such a wonderful place. I grew up across the other side of the country in Flamborough, but with very similar interests and I'm very fond of the Llyn Peninsula And of course their royal highnesses, the cats, are what drew me to your blog in the first place. I will be back!(I'm in southern California now, and miss the wild rocky coastlines.)
How lovely and clear the sea can be, even round our coast!
I am fascinated with the seals. They are very interesting and beautiful.
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