At The End Of The Gravel Road

Up and over the hill behind my house is a small place called Burwick. The road is winding, mostly on the far side, as I imagine it followed sheep tracks in bygone days. It seems to take a while to walk as you're watching every step on the large loose gravel stones. My photographic attempts were thwarted by the wind which was almost a gale and I couldn't stand steady. Here are my only two successes and are complete opposites in composition. The sky and sea were an exquisite blue.