On Sunday, husband and I indulged in a stroll along the promenade at the harbour end of town. We parked in a side street, the corner plot of which used to comprise of three hotels which were demolished last year. The plot has been fenced off ever since, with ‘windows’ placed at head height. We took a peek through the windows on Sunday, and were delighted to discover that the plot had become a wild flower haven.*
Because most of the flowers were poppies (a favourite) I took several photos with my iPhone:
These are the ‘arty-farty’ pictures, taken through the ‘windows’
We walked along the new jetty, from where we could see the recent changes to the dunes on the opposite side of the river, known locally as Horton’s Nose. The plan is to dig out much of that area to create a new section of harbour, and already a large tract of land has been changed.
Three upright girders are now in place, which we believe will be the central support for the new bridge that will allow pedestrians and cyclists to cross over the water between the harbourside and the promenade. I’m sure it will be lovely, but the changes are already affecting the harbour, and a small part of my heart felt bruised by that.
The tide was very low, so the shipwreck ruins were more visible than normal. I try to photograph them at every opportunity, so on Sunday I took a few shots
I took these photos because I love the colours: the flash of bright sunlit sand contrasts beautifully with the darker yellows and the the grey of the rocks, water and sky.
I love walking on the beach or promenade. I love the scent of the sea and sand, even if it’s mingled with the aroma of chips, candy floss, and hot dogs. I love the sound of the sea, whether it’s gently lapping the flattened sand or crashing over the rocks and against the sea walls. I love to hear the gulls and other shore birds, even when they’re drowned out by squealing children and watchful adults, barking dogs and amusement arcade music. I love the touch of the wind, sun or rain (sometimes all three!) on my skin. I love the way the familiar landscape looks different every time I look at it, its colours and shadows dictated by the weather and the angle of the sun.
Whenever my soul needs a boost, I’m drawn to the seashore. I feel a deep connection to the sea, to the extent that I feel bereft when I travel inland and relieved when I return home, no matter how much I’ve enjoyed my trip. I feel blessed to live in a seaside town, with the beach a short walk away from my home. I don’t take advantage of it as much as I’d like, but I’ll always be thankful that it’s within such easy reach.
* When I left work this evening, I passed the corner plot. The wooden fence had been taken down, and the grass – and flowers – had been cut. I can only hope that those beautiful flowers will be allowed to grow again.