From Wood End, or Herring Cove, looking west on a clear autumn day. The hills of Plymouth break the western horizon. Like a high island, lifted by the loom. Floating above a glittering shimmer. Sky encroaching from its edges, reaching beneath looming land, curling in at each end.
From Wood End…
From Wood End…
From Wood End…
From Wood End, or Herring Cove, looking west on a clear autumn day. The hills of Plymouth break the western horizon. Like a high island, lifted by the loom. Floating above a glittering shimmer. Sky encroaching from its edges, reaching beneath looming land, curling in at each end.