Otaki Beach. New Zealand. Same coast. Different Beach.
"Break, break, break, on thy
Cold, grey stones, oh sea!
Oh that my tongue could utter
the thoughts that arise in me." (Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Can't help it. I've loved this poem since I first read it in high school. The sound! The rhythm!
Oh my, that is a very angry sea, and sky! It seemed to get more intense as the minutes went on and that wind! I used to think that the wind on the farm was strong at times, but this was something else.
Oh I like this stormy one a lot! I'm listening to it while I work, keeps me focused. I'll probably just keep listening over and over.
"Break, break, break, on thy
Cold, grey stones, oh sea!
Oh that my tongue could utter
the thoughts that arise in me." (Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Can't help it. I've loved this poem since I first read it in high school. The sound! The rhythm!
Oh my, that is a very angry sea, and sky! It seemed to get more intense as the minutes went on and that wind! I used to think that the wind on the farm was strong at times, but this was something else.
Oh I like this stormy one a lot! I'm listening to it while I work, keeps me focused. I'll probably just keep listening over and over.