As I drove down the hill to the harbour I saw the surge of incoming water break into crests and become the galloping horses rushing toward the shore.
By the time I got to the side of the road, the biggest waves had run by. I stood briefly in the cold waiting for the next surge of big waves, but, like fish stories, you'll just have to believe that the ones that got away were bigger.
After cresting, the waves put their heads down like the race horses they have become in a frantic race for the shoreline. A photo just cannot capture the size and the energy of these waves and they were not the war horses of a proper storm.
As they reach the shore, their energy is momentarily spent until the waves rolling along behind them collide. The light yesterday was right so it was worth braving the cold for a try to capture the waves.