to the west
July 26, 2010
passing the fishing boats going east to where they land on the Stade at Rock – a – Nore. The boats are often freckled with the gulls at the moment as all the new hungry baby gulls need feeding too. Their timetable at the moment is beach during the day and back to the roof tops and the old nests for the night. There’s a constant ruckus at feeding times especially the early morning meal so not much chance of sleep after 5 am!
Eagle eyed folks will notice a change in the tide and, yes, other stuff got in the way of taking these images so this post is in two episodes . . . but the light changed so wonderfully in the afternoon that negatives were turned into positives. This is the beach at Bulverhythe and a very different landscape . . .
. . . as the traffic routes change with the road set back away from the coastline allowing the railway and small industrial areas to form the buffer. So a slightly looser and wilder beach environment than The Stade even though this beach houses about 180 huts. One has a promise of a green roof.
There’s a sense of the countryside meeting the shore here plus a sense of the history without clutter of seaside resort . . .
. . . the groynes are the fixed element in this landscape around which the moving elements are layered and contoured by the sea . . .
. . . and we move around, with the birds, and use the beach in individual ways at low tide . . .
. . a lug wormer; important to get the right bait for fishing . . .
. . further west, Bexhill and the high land towards Beachy Head . . .
No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. John Donne