The sailors say ’twill be rough to-night,
As they fasten the hatches down,
The south is black, and the bar is white,
And the drifting smoke is brown.
The gold has gone from the western haze,
The sea-birds circle and swarm –
But we shall have plenty of sunny days,
And little enough of storm
Will. H. Ogilvie.
foto – ulmarra storm dec 09