Awoken at 04:30 hrs. First dim light of the new day.
A stag bellows from the wood on the hill.
Tree branches, unsteady in the stiffening northerly wind, emit a low, irregular moan.
Behind this lies the slow-motion rush of heavy waves breaking hard on the shingle. Then the long draw as the sea inhales before the next swell rolls in.
I am lulled back to sleep
CLP 28/03/2020
Voyage des Mots 