Paintings and other items of Fine Art sometimes have map-like craquelure when they get older and not looked after, but often quite quaint with seasoned character. Dry land can have such craquelure, too.
Weather forecast maps, too, with the whorls of their meta-craquelure multiplying, getting closer together, but there any comforting quaintness ends.
We’re tightly squeezed between yet another coupling of storm craquelures at the moment on this coast where I live, but already, from last night’s storm, solid rocks were strewn not only across the beach but up onto the prom … boulders, too, by the presumed strength of explosive waves! Geographical craquelure as well as meteor-ological?
This morning’s broken-backed skyline between storms:
Last Balcony: Essex Serpents and Pier’s Echo 
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