Tag: coast
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04/08/23 – Cornwall – dried thrift, home scars and a tide pool
We started at the top of the cliffs, looking out over the pale bay with its jagged spikes of rock. There were people tiny on the sand but we stayed on the cliff path, following the edge of a field. The path was like a long drag of claw marks and the verges were full…
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16/07/23 – Strong winds beside the sea
Yesterday it was so windy it was an effort to walk into the face of it, but we pushed on. We were on the edge of the ocean, a raised path between the fields and the heaving blue sea. The long grass, the green leaved crops, the yellowed fields all whipped in the wind, constantly…
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04/06/23 – Waves over the wall at the tidal pool
On Sunday I was so tired I didn’t think I had the energy for anything, but I still dragged myself to the sea. The wind was high and the waves were rushing in, bands of white flushing forward to the shore. I walked out along the concrete wall of the tidal pool, which was thick…
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27/05 – Low tide sand shapes
I waited till the evening, when the sands were quieter. I walked away from the main bay, from the beach swings and trampolines, the bodies stretched over the sand. I walk away, across the sand. The sand was high, reminding me that the beach is an ever shifting place, an edge but also a moving…
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08/04/23 – Dusk with the iron men
We walked through the dunes and saw them, all spread out, staring to sea. Antony Gormley’s Another Place, 100 iron men standing amongst the elements. The sun was setting, a band of pink below deep blue streaks of cloud on the horizon. The sand was dimpled and swirled, stuttered into bands by the tide, and…
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02/04/23 – Mermaid’s purses and egg sacs on the shore
Yesterday I went to the tide pool. It was windy and I wobbled as I walked out to the first ladder. Great swathes of seaweed had spread since I’d last been and they were spread-eagled beneath the surface, black through milky grey. I climbed down the ladder into chest clenching cold, swam across with the…
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12/02/23 – Low tide at West Wittering
At the weekend I went to West Wittering for the first time and it was packed. I’d hoped a grey February Sunday wouldn’t be too busy, but there were huge groups of people all over the wide expanse of sand. I turned right, towards East Head, which I hoped would be quieter. The tide was…
Bonnie Radcliffe 