The Terror

I could see the waves from the road above the railway in Blackrock. I ended up crouching behind a wall, risking getting my 5D soaked by waves AND bucketing rain. The sea is rarely this gorgeously fierce, so I really wanted to get as close as I could. Lines from an old Irish poem came to me, as they often do when the sea is wild. It's about peoples' fear of Viking raids being allayed by the sea, which is too ferocious to cross. Here's my version of it (by way of the great Victorian translator, Kuno Meyer):

The Terror

Tonight, the wind is the terror:
it claws at the waves' white hair.

No fear of iron-headed icemen steadily
slicing through the Irish Sea.

I was delighted to get both the bird (a gannet?) and the wave in the frame. The former is perched on the top of the high board of the derelict Blackrock Baths.