(after Richard Long)
BOXING DAY: HOLME-NEXT-THE-SEA
A mile or so on an empty beach, in the shelter of the dunes.
Retracing our steps as the tide turns and day becomes dusk.
A mile or so on an empty beach, in the shelter of the dunes.
Retracing our steps as the tide turns and day becomes dusk.
27th: BURNHAM NORTON
Along the raised bank between marshes and reed beds, heading seawards.
Two kinds of windmill; no wind. Pink-feet, Brent geese, the air filled with their chunter.
Turning at the last corner, we slither through mud to complete the circle.
27th: BURNHAM NORTON
Along the raised bank between marshes and reed beds, heading seawards.
Two kinds of windmill; no wind. Pink-feet, Brent geese, the air filled with their chunter.
Turning at the last corner, we slither through mud to complete the circle.
28th: CLEY
Pastel skies. Cold gusts. Out along East Bank, its new red surface slick with wet.
The wind behind us on the shingle; creamy surf nibbles at my ankles.
The light!
Driving home, roadsides piled with beets.
28th: CLEY
Pastel skies. Cold gusts. Out along East Bank, its new red surface slick with wet.
The wind behind us on the shingle; creamy surf nibbles at my ankles.
The light!
Driving home, roadsides piled with beets.
29th: TITCHWELL
Late afternoon, as far as the beach and back.
A curlew wheels. Redshank potter. Distant avocet hinge and dip.
The thin whistling of teal; honking grey-lags lumber into formation.
Long shadows, golden light.
30th: BIRCHAM
A morning walk: pale sun, rough wind; heavy rain promised later.
Back Lane, Cuckoo Hill Road, the Snettisham Road as far as the windmill
Then track, fieldside, back up Dersingham Lane.
Bare trees black against a mottled sky.
31st: BURNHAM OVERY STAITHE
Almost cloudless, the sky rinsed clean to duck-egg blue.
One in the procession of dogs and their walkers, setting out towards Holkham Gap.
The sea a midnight stripe beyond the dunes.
Boats jangle lazily in the harbour; geese whirr and burble in adjacent fields.
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