Caught in a downpour, I rounded a corner on my way through town and was greeted by this beauty. It brought me right back to my home off the coast of County Mayo, Ireland. Every few years a whale will wash up on the shore and it’s always a spectacle for the locals. Some families will make a day out of visiting the thing and it gives the old ones something to talk about in the pub on a Sunday afternoon.

On a quiet night, if you turn your ear the right way on the pillow, you can hear the lapping of ocean waves in the bay. It makes for a fine lullaby and, depending on who you talk with, they say that the salt air will either gift you with all the vitality of a young bullock, or it will rust your bones from the inside out. Sometimes I miss that ocean air and the good people of Mayo, but London spares no time for sentimentality and there is always somewhere a person has to be. I took a quick snap of the painting and hope it brings some pleasant thoughts of the sea to your own day.