A hearty treat of bleak wintry goodness, courtesy of the North Atlantic, the wonderful Noah Lane, and Finisterre, who say…

Daylight wanes as sky becomes heavy. Isobars compress and warp; cross-sectioned onions on the nightly news. The coast awakens, transformed from the doldrums of summer. Warmth; a flickering memory, like those drawn upon for favourable conditions at half-forgotten spots. The ocean roars, resuming it’s age-old attack on the coastline in a relentless barrage of storm fronts. And so the hunt begins, chasing the nooks hidden from wind and seas. Schedule revolves around brief opportunities, better described as optimistic hunches. A goading carrot dangled, and ever so occasionally within reach. 

Winter chasing shapes on the fringes of the North Atlantic. A collections of moments captured along the way. Mar.