Rockcliffe

I have taken an amazing photograph of rock pools studded between grass hummocks, something I've never seen before. The pools are full of whole and crushed cockle shells, seaweed, feathers and small granite stones; when you walk on the grass you can feel the almost-sand that the grass is embedded in crunch slightly underneath it's thick carpet. In todays's damp and windy light, there was a bright, eerie glow to the grass that contrasted with the forbidding grey basalt stone outcrops by the beach.
The rain and wind are relentless; this feels like the back of beyond. Nobody is about. Electronic things don't work, clothes are damp.
I look at the photograph, and the way the dense grass spills right into the salt water; it seems simultaneously to be a throwback to a prehistoric age, and a harbinger of times to come.
I shudder.