Having now reached episode 7 of The Crown series 2, we have decided that enough is more than enough. There is too much intrusive invention for our liking.
This morning I visited Sears Barbers for Peter to cut my hair. Knowing that later today we would be in for a storm which I believe has been named Brendan, we left home an hour early to watch a clear blue sky constantly changing as the relentless wind whipped the waves, scudded the clouds, and precipitated driving rain.
As we approached the coast, passing the White House perched against the indigo skies,
a lichen covered thorn hedge gave testimony to the purity of the nevertheless untamed air.
Even just after 9.30 a.m. the coast road was devoid of daylight
as dark clouds dominated.
A few dog walkers hastened along
beneath skies changing by the minute.
Some gulls struggled on the thermals,
while others hunkered down on the car park tarmac;
I do hope it was a piece of bread that this one gathered up for breakfast.
The waves were simply choppy at first,
but soon increased in ferocity.
The rain was brief but did send me back into the car before we moved further along the coast where
surging spray pounded the sea walls
their cream-laden fingers grasping at
the sturdy breakwaters.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s particularly spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender runner beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Concha y Toro Casilliero del Diablo 2017.