A low, 300 miles west of us, is making its presence felt. 25 - 30 knots of wind drives white horses up the anchorage. Rain squalls drum like hoofbeats on the deck. I'm having a day below!
No boats venture out, past the protecting points and islands of our craggy haven. The only movements, on the water, are fleeting glimpses, of a lone, patrolling, seal's angular, grey, speckled head.
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Location:Ireland
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