Westering

Evening light at Pwllgwaelod. Even when the tide is high there's room for boules.

It wasn't as dark as this but I took the photo into the low sun.


There's no place to go. There's the ocean to stop you. There's a line of old men along the shore hating the ocean because it stopped them... Every place is taken. But that's not the worst - no, not the worst. Westering has died out of the people. Westering isn't a hunger any more.
John Steinbeck, The Red Pony



(It's fun to be blipping again - if I'm already finding it hard to keep up.
Thank you for the welcome back.
I've added some back blips for August, if you care to look, and have a few more unmissable moments to go up.)