Twelve frames from the coast
One roll of film, one grey morning, one stretch of shoreline that refused to be boring.
Twelve frames, because that is what was left on the roll. A grey, flat, unpromising morning — the kind you almost stay in bed for. I went out anyway, walked one kilometre of shoreline, and came back with a set I still like more than most of my sunny ones.
Bad weather is good weather, if what you are after is mood.
