White, Blue and Gold

Evening Harbour, Bray

Out to Pat to photograph some recent Corsican landscapes in his studio, a commission he’s been working on. Lola was in the car, so afterwards I took her to the little harbour near Joyce’s old house and gave her a brief airing. Then, as the tide was out, and I wanted to get a closer view of the far side of the harbour, I walked down among the swans preening and waddling about on the mud. Clouds like frail white hair were combed out onto the blue sky. Everything else was gold-tinted by the evening, windows of passing DARTs on the raised railway, mustard-yellow moss on the harbour wall, and the old mortar itself, and Bray Head afloat behind it, all gilded in the slow sinking light.