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The storm was gathering pace. My window panorama showed the trees thrashing about, trying to cling on to the steep cliffs that dropped sharply to the ocean. The cliff-top house creaked and shuddered around me in the gale, 400 feet above a small bay that was being relentlessly pounded by wave after wave of angry, dark-grey water. Just yesterday, I had picked my way carefully down the cliff trail and stood on the tiny beach, looking out at the calm waters of the Pacific, waiting for the sun to set. In that moment, it had felt like the entire world was behind me, shored up by the sheer strength of the cliffs and all that lay in front was a sea of molten gold and a sky that demanded I stand and appreciate.

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