Black and Blue

 

A scowling sky glowers across the port of Granville. Sending sharp staccato bursts of rain to drum on Stargazer's decks.  A mischievous wind clambers over the protecting harbour wall, whistling and tugging at flags, before heading into town. They sport playfully, in a rough and tumble game. 

The morning sun joins them, as they play. Casting an eerie glow across the rooftops.

It wins the game by, for a fleeting moment, painting an iridescent rainbow across the heavens. The rain retreats, to think up a riposte.

The wind and the sun play on. Sending pools of light, and then cloud shadows, racing across the waterfront.

Where the roads toil their way up to the brow of the headland, in long zig zags. Breathless houses resting at their sides, looking out to sea. 

The wind is still blowing hard. Today out of the west. It is due to go into the north, when Granville is at its most sheltered, tomorrow. And to keep blowing.

A solitary, gung-ho, race crew brave the elements for some heavy weather frolics.

The rest of us stay snugged down in port. Beneath skies alternately black and blue.

Stargazer and I will need to be nimble, over the next couple of weeks. There are more lows on their way. They will be joined, in the next seven to ten days, by the remnants of hurricane Laura. Between the blows, the wind is forecast to die away almost completely. In order to make progress east, we will need to sail on the days on which the lows arrive and depart. A moving feast.