Cloudless over Rainham Marshes
They came at dusk, their wings made rosy by the last of the sun, and coasted in a widening ellipse from above us out across the marshes and over the reeds.
Effortless they looked, almost lazy, but absolute masters of the moment. Untroubled and apart. Astonishing.
And to think I was going to go home early.
Continue reading “Owls Over Rainham”
Rainham Marshes, a place worth finding yourself
RSPB Rainham is a body of marshland at London’s Essex border.
The Dartford Crossing towers beyond its crown. Under the pylons at its flank among a clank of industrial units at the railway edge is a depot or perhaps factory for red double-decker buses.
Continue reading “Rainham Marshes – Things Remembered And Never Known”
Between Dunwich and Walberswick
Starting the day eating bacon cooked on a gas burner is one of life’s simple joys. As is brewing fresh coffee on the same.
Continue reading “Southwold Milestones And Memory (part two)”
Beach before first swim
I know the first time I remember coming to Southwold because there’s a photograph of me and Macey buried up to our necks in the sand.
Continue reading “Southwold Milestones And Memory (part one)”
Clifftop grass and bracken
I’M not known for taking my time over a drink but even by my standards that pint of cider barely touched the sides.
As with many things, John Steinbeck’s Doc had it best in Cannery Row – the first for thirst, the second for taste. He was talking about beer but I wouldn’t bet against him developing a taste for cider if it had been readily available in hot Monterey.
Continue reading “All Change – Hastings To Rye”
Platforms at the old Crouch Hill station
Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck is an account of a road trip the author undertakes across the US with his pet poodle, whose name informs the title.
It begins with a description of the restless spirit – the want for wandering we feel from youth and suffer into middle age and maturity. The need to be a bum sometimes.
Having decided to hit the road, Steinbeck says the bum must settle on three things. A reason for going; the route to be taken; and the means by which it will be covered.
I like this description: the bum within us wants to leave; our higher aspect seeks the reason.
Continue reading “Parkland Walk With Steinbeck”
Low tide, Piel Island
We leave Piel Island as we’d arrived, crossing a deep channel from one world to another, taking some things with us, leaving others behind.
We’d been there less than 24 hours but it seems longer, as if we’d temporarily stepped out of the normal run of things, separated by sea from the clocks and the cars.
Continue reading “Leaving Piel Island”