Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

The sixth green and a shelter, from the seventh tee. After this, both of my camera batteries went dead. (I was never a Boy Scout).

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

The fifth green, just at the edge of the sea.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

The par 3 third hole - it looks very short, but we played it from about 190 yards.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

At sea level, the tall, tall, sky.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

The starter's hut and first tee. I reckon it's a kind of British tee-pee.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

On the fifth tee, looking out into the Sandwich Bay.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

This bunker must be 12 + feet deep from it's highest to lowest point.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

This isn't me, it's Christopher the Kiwi, on the 4th hole.

Royal St George's, Sandwich, England, February 2008

C'est moi, on the 4th hole at Royal St. George's, where Greg Norman and Ben Curtis won British Opens (93 and 03, respectively).

whitstable, kent, late july 2007

Look, Stranger

Look, stranger, at this island now
The leaping light for your delight discovers,
Stand stable here
And silent be,
That through the channels of the ear
May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.

Here at the small field's ending pause
Where the chalk wall falls to the foam, and its tall
ledges
Oppose the pluck
And knock of the tide,
And the shingle scrambles after the suck -
ing surf, and the gull lodges
A moment on its sheer side.

Far off like floating seeds the ships
Diverge on urgent voluntary errands;
And the full view
Indeed may enter
And move in memory as now these clouds do,
That pass the harbour mirror
And all the summer through the water saunter.

~ W. H. A U D E N