Near the giant lighthouse, at the edge of a craggy promontory, there's the strong sea wind, and the old rusted crane. It's past the collection of weather-beaten fishing huts. Off the footpath. Beyond where the land is safe to walk. 
The view, here at this precarious point of a panoramic wild sea lit by low afternoon sun, does also urge caution. For the venturer to resist the desire to reach down and touch the waves. Touch and so connect, with whatever the mysterious energy is, that's powering the dance of the deep water waves. Folly, it says. Step back, it says, and rest upon the old rusted crane. Spend a little time here it says, half an hour should do it. Use your ears. Use time. 
The rock promontory steers the incoming swell into natural inlets, to the left, and to the right. Wild waves slap and splatter against the worn clean stone. Gusting sometimes strongly, the onshore breeze swings a loose part on the crane, somewhere above where the microphones are attached, making it chink. Over time, and from some way out to sea, an ocean going vessel slowly, and benevolently, hums by.
We captured this segment of time near the lighthouse on Portland Bill last month. Cloudy conditions had persisted through the day but by the time we'd found the right location to record the sky had turned to blue and the sun was shining strongly.