Incoming

When the lighthouse disappears locals say you have ten minutes before the town is lashed with rain. Sure enough, Godrevy was silhouetted against blue-grey vagueness while the bay shone, claustrophobically, with light reflected back onto the water by the clouds. Then outcrop and headland were deleted by mist. We heard it before we felt it: a shimmer in hedgerows and trees like distant cymbals. Then the big timpani came in and to anyone looking we too had disappeared.