The wind-whipped ocean is in turmoil. Frenzied waves, tossed and thwarted in their assault by buffeting crosswinds, race in to dash themselves in a sibilance of white foam, not unlike the hiss of steam the dark rocks must have made during their formation while still smouldering magma. Spent, the waves retreat with a sigh, then swell and crash again.
My cheeks tingle with the cold. I pull my hat down low over my forehead, pull my scarf up high around my neck.
Further along the island’s coast and uphill inland, the giant arms of wind turbines flail. There is something joyous in the symmetry of their ranked movement, like a dance carefully choreographed and directed by the wind.
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The extraordinary stories of South Korean famed sea divers
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Baek Sehee writes: “The world tends to focus too much on the very bright or the very dark.” She steers clear of both extremes in her book. For this alone, it merits attention.
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Poetry from Rory Harris
- Tags: Issue 20, Marc de Faoite, South Korea