Down through budded thorn to huge bolders: Cream, pink , terre verte and dark. Flashes of white like lightening strikes written through them.
Albion Sands –red stained sea.
Towards Musselwick Sands marks and paint not fitting oh! that black bay…
Martin’s Haven Wooltack Point
2 choughs strutting their courtship on the ground then they fly off
St Anne’s Head Car parking for residents only The Vomit a kestrel hovers- agile shape shifting in wind
RAF Kete
A man and a dog walk pass me heading for the holiday lets at the lighthouse. I nod and say hello-eager to appear like a relaxed resident. I pass through the gate onto the Wales Coast Path to step aside from one foaming glob on the turf. A bilious dog I assume and I remember that the first inlet I come to is named The Vomit. I walk on. The grass is now covered in foaming globules. They are rising like soap suds from the base of the stack. Some fly buoyantly and swiftly away.
South West from the lighthouse is Florida: 3,000 miles away. Just round the headland: Milford Haven. on Marloes Sands