Here, have a lighthouse.

Cold, choppy Connecticut, on a lark, and on a day too dark to take the photos I'd intended to.

We'd set out to explore a bit, to take photos of rust and color and happened upon this spot not quite accidentally, not quite on purpose. The wind whipped bitingly at my ears and nose while J kept the car warm, and the magically beautiful striated rocks and alternatingly calm and choppy waves tended (as they always do) to tell our story for us.