It's All About the Wind

The moon was still high in the sky when we reached the cliffs this morning and for once you couldn’t hear the waves as they crashed onto the rocks of Durlston Bay. You couldn’t hear the gulls calling as they circled above white capped waves either but this was not to say that the morning was a haven of peace and quiet. The overriding noise was caused by a wind that forced a path through the tree tops, sounding like a jet engine one minute and shifting sand the next, it drowned out almost everything else. I say almost because somewhere in the darkness of the undergrowth was a Wren, a fine little bird with a big mouth, that was winning the loudest noise competition at least for a little while.
Further along the cliffs a Peregrine suddenly appeared, effortlessly lifted herself high on the updraft and disappeared behind the trees. There were not many other birds close to land but far out to sea Gannets soared just above the waves looking impossibly white even against the breaking water. Far below, white horses were being dragged from the tops of waves and sent spraying across the water before they too were carried up the face of the cliff and into the sky.
On this clear blue sky morning, without a cloud to be seen, you could feel the spray as it fell like fine rain and that wasn’t a bad thing at all.