Beneath the scars of a long dead quarry the waves were thundering against the cliffs. There were still a few climbers out though and, just around the headland, three kayaks made there way slowly westward towards the white water.
Now although there is always a little voice in the back of my mind that that tries to make me take the kayak out in rough seas, I'm not quite that stupid.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Small Caves And Big Waves
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Quiet but never silent.
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