Picture this:
An early afternoon in the pub: sheltering from the wrath of the Atlantic, log fire, Lundy Gold and laughter, then, during a lull – the reluctant decision to hike home. A two mile trek acroos the moor against a lively north-westerly, so strong it rips the snot and phlegm across your frozen cheek. Head down, step after step, treading water in too many clothes, each heavy breath taking us further away from the bullshit and closer to the life-raft: Tibbetts. Refuge in the middle of the stormy sea, dim gas lights, comfort in the percussion of the rattling windows and peace at last. Translucent glass in the cast iron stove glow yellow with coals, Mount Gay & Plymouth provide the heat. Perspective is restored.
Canon 5D mk3 w/70-300mm L IS, (home-made) Sloe & Plymouth Gin with support roles played by Mount Gay Rum, Shiraz and plenty of limes.
RIP Keith Oddy
February 13th, 2016 → 6:07 pm
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