A topsail schooner rounds the point, at Toulinguet. Up from the Raz de Sein. Square-sails spread to catch the zephyrs.
She makes her stately way, toward the Goulet de Brest. Gliding beneath the multihued cliffs. Slipping from one catspaw, of breeze, to the next. Working the tide.
Foxgloves hang vivid and still, on the clifftop.
Below, boats sun themselves at anchor.
Between architectural stacks and arches. The cliffs aglow with colour, both floral and mineral.
The train, of north easterlies, which bore Stargazer south, to Camaret, is running out of steam. But, the forecast offers hope, that one last puff may remain, to carry Stargazer through the Raz de Sein, on the morning tide.
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