Deserted beach on a misty February morning.

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When I went for my walk this morning, the sea was smooth and glassy and a mist hung over the beach, which was almost deserted. After a while, I turned towards the promenade looking for inspiration.
Late in the afternoon, I went out again and caught the last rays of a wintry sunset.

I LIKE TO PHOTOGRAPH ANYTHING THAT CATCHES MY EYE ON WALKS ALONG THE COAST NEAR MY HOME – pebbles, bleached wood, rocks, lichen, plants, interesting architectural details, the play of light on objects, quirky juxtapositions …….

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Twilight at the beach, wintry sunset…….

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Sunday morning walk on the beach ……

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Saturday morning, 18th February 2012

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Autumn Sunset

 

Today I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

                                 

                          

” The fair, frail palaces,

   The fading alps and archipelagoes,

    And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas. “

    Thomas Bailey Aldrich.

A rather strange collection

I collect pebbles…..with holes in them!

I’ve already got quite a large collection, and it’s growing every day. A little weird you might say, and that’s probably exactly what visitors to my house think when they see these groups of holey stones cluttering up every available surface.

But I think I know how this started………When the house where I now live was on sale I came to view it and immediately fell in love with it, and more importantly with the possibility of living so close to the sea.

I went for a walk along the beach and picked up a lovely turquoise-coloured pebble which just happened to have a hole all the way through it. There and then I made a sort of silent vow that I would wear the pebble round my neck for as long as it took for me to be able to buy the house.

I did manage to buy the house, and in some mixed-up way in my mind the pebble acquired a sort of talismanic quality. Rather than discard the stone, I felt I had to go on wearing it . It’s not exactly a superstition, more a subconscious fear that by removing the pebble from round my neck, I might be removing the happiness I had found since living here.

I’m still wearing it to this day! And more than that, I feel a compulsion to re-enact that first incident in order to continue to benefit from its positive effects.

So now, every day when I visit the beach, my first task is to find a pebble with a hole through it. Once achieved , I can then get on with whatever else I want to do.  But I’m not able to leave the beach until I have at least one holey stone safely in my pocket!

So, my collection grows by a minimum of at least one a day. What to do with them has become something of a problem. The least attractive go to decorate the garden. Others I make into hanging mobiles, although there is a limit to the number of these that can be accommodated in one house.

The best I arrange on the mantlepiece and , to my mind, they are very aesthetically pleasing, each one rather like a mini Barbara Hepworth or Henry Moore sculpture.

The question of how the holes get into the pebbles is an interesting one.

I had assumed that they were caused by the action of the waves over many years, but apparently the culprit is a small rock-boring creature which makes a hole in the pebble to provide itself with a home!

Wonderful Clouds

 

Today dawned bright and clear, so I made an effort to get down to the beach earlier than usual.

I was expecting rich pickings in the ‘beachcombing department’ after last night’s storm. So I was a little disappointed not to find anything very unusual.

I came across an old gardening glove and a scrap of rose-printed fabric, both of which seemed a little incongruous.

I found a tennis ball (not the same one I came across the other day), and a tangle of fishing net caught my eye. A heap of shingle banked up against the sea wall was evidence of the previous night’s storm, and I noticed a lot of cuttle-fish lying around which must have been washed in by the heavy seas.

Being Saturday, families were taking advantage of the fine autumn weather to stroll along the beach, and a dog must have run miles dashing backwards and forwards chasing seagulls.

Although I didn’t find any ‘treasures’ to take home, I saw lots of fleeting images that will stay with me, such as the delicate play of light on this wet rock.

But the highlight of my walk was definitely seeing these wonderful cloud formations.

J’aime les nuages……..les nuages qui passent…….la-bas……..la-bas……..les merveilleux nuages!

Charles Baudelaire.

The sea-my daily ritual

Writing this blog gives me a reason to visit  the seashore every day. Not that I need any encouragement, I live just e few minutes’  away from the beach,  so my daily seaside walk has become a bit of a ritual.

When I get there, whatever the weather, I’m always glad I made the effort. There’s something very uplifting about being by the sea, I always come away feeling inspired and wanting to be creative. My thoughts  seem clearer, all the trivial details cluttering up my mind have been blown away by the fresh sea breeze, and anything seems possible.

Even on rainy days there’s plenty to see and enjoy, such as the texture of the stones making up a wall. Or some sea kale growing in a crevice by the path.

In winter the beach is deserted, waves smash into the shore, the wind screams in my ears and seagulls call to each other as they glide overhead.

                           ” There is something in being near the sea,

                              like the confines of eternity. It is a new element

                              a pure abstraction. The mind loves to hover on

                              that which is endless, and forever the same.

                               I wonder at the sea, that vast Leviathan,

                               rolled round the earth, smiling in its sleep,

                               waked into fury, fathomless, boundless,

                                a huge world of water-drops – Whence is it,

                                wither goes it, is it of eternity or of nothing? “

                                                          William Hazlitt

I must go down to the sea again

 My blog is based around my daily walks on the beach near my home.

Despite walking the same stretch of beach every day at approximately the same time, every walk is different. The time of year, weather, state of the tide, my own mood and various other factors all combine to make each walk a unique experience.

So, for instance, today the weather was overcast, there was a strong, gusty wind and the beach was deserted. 

The sea was steely grey, churning over and crashing on to the beach.

Rough weather like this is ideal for beachcombing, as all sorts of objects are thrown up onto the beach.

Today I found an old sandal,

                        lots of seaweed

some delicate driftwood branches, which I took home for decorations

and a tennis ball ! I’m always hoping to find a message in a bottle.

I invariably come home with a pocketful of pebbles, today I found a heart-shaped one.

When I was just about to turn for home, the sun broke through the clouds creating a silver pathway across the waves.