Timeless coastline

One day last week, wild and unpredictable February gifted us with a fine day. The wind was sending dark clouds scudding across the sky, but at least the sky was blue. And so we headed for the coast. Not for us golden sands, cafes and souvenir shops but a wild stretch of muddy coastline at the mouth of the estuary.

This is the small village of Bardsea that overlooks the water. I've taken you here before but I thought you'd like to visit again.

At the water's edge, we could see no other sign of human habitation. The distant horizon was masked by mist and it wasn't difficult to imagine a group of ancient settlers trudging across the mud collecting shell fish and edible grasses.

Only the hardiest of plants grow here; the kind that will withstand endless battering from persistent wind and salt spray.

 

 

For those who seek golden sun-kissed sands it must seem a very unimpressive coastline but I never grow tired of its unpretentious beauty.

 

 

 

At this time of year it reminds me of the work done by British artist Angie Lewin. I have her book (below) and it contains numerous pictures of her work.

 

 

 

 

Her inspiration comes from skeletal stems and seedpods that she finds during winter visits to wild windswept places.

 

These plants then become the subjects of her wonderful linocut prints.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love Angie Lewin's work