The waves churned so hard against the rocks they looked like milk, and the foamy spindrift flew over the tidepools. It was incredible to see the setting sun's light backlighting the wave crests, water shining like jade and saphire and iolite. The storm fronts marched up and over the beach, headed inland, pausing to unleash the torrent of water from their pregnant dark bellies in order to make it over the headland, which rises straight up from the sea in a sheer cliff nearly one thousand feet tall. Trees grow stunted and braced against the wind on Cape Perpetua.