Insomnia and coastal walks...

Sleep and I have never been great friends and just now we have really fallen out. 3-4 hours sleep counts as a good night and on a bad night...well lets just say sometimes the early dawn sees me still clockwatching. 

A couple of weeks ago, in the interests of continuing my trip around the coast and not wasting the weekend feeling grumpy after not sleeping, I got up and headed to the North Norfolk coast as the sun was rising. The skies were stunning as I was driving and still tinged with pink when I arrived at the stretch of shingly beach between Weybourne and Salthouse.

It was pretty cold, with the threat of a downpour very present, heavy black clouds over the sea...

...but there is something very striking about this coastline, even when it looks a little bleak, with its expanse of skies and sense of solitude, just a lone fisherman at the shoreside...

By the time I got to the nature reserve at Salthouse my hands were frozen and I was struggling to stand still, never mind take photos across the marshes...

I'm not sure if it was my mood or the atmosphere, but I found this beach a little depressing. 

It feels like a vast stretch of shingle which, that day, was being pounded relentlessly by the grey waves. The beach itself was strewn with starfish and even a few small fish and although they were splashes of colour and intricate patterns, felt a bit like the debris from some natural ill-event... 

I don't know how well you can see them here, but I don't think I have ever seen so many starfish - every few steps was another and another...

Even this boat looked abandoned on the shore...

By this time it was pouring and I gave up gracefully to retreat to the heat of the car.

I will try to complete the beach list but its definitely not going to happen before the end of the year. Perhaps by Spring, when life looks set to throw a few more challenges my way and I will really need to  motivate myself to find a new way forward. I am currently torn between willing the winter on and desperately trying to hold on to the 'now' so that I don't have to face my feelings which I just know are going to be as stormy as these clouds come April time. Life is so complicated.

And in the meantime, there is Christmas to manage. I have less than 2 weeks to get festive - superhuman effort required, but will get there...

S x

Autumn walks...

I think this is the time of year for misty days, muted colours and cool breezes. There is a dampness in the air and, although the first few days of November have been unusually mild, my walks this week have been typical of that. 

Last Sunday I walked with a friend through the woods at Fairhaven Gardens. There were some slightly random things dotted about from a hallowe'en event the night before (spot the mummy hanging from the tree?!) but in spite of that it was beautiful and slightly ethereal in the mist...

Lovely autumn colours and low light...

Hazy reflections on the broad...

If it hadn't been so damp, I think there would have been a satisfying crunch underfoot...

Funny how you can live so close to somewhere most of your life and never know it's there. These are huge trees that dwarfed us...

Then this Sunday I walked with another friend along the coast from Walberswick to Dunwich. There was a stiff breeze off the sea but the light and the sound of the waves was just restorative.

I don't relish the slide towards winter and short grey days but there is undoubtedly something special about this season as much as any other.

S x

escape to the top of the world...

Of course not the 'top of the world' at all really, but as near as I can manage. Things have been particularly challenging of late and its fair to say I have felt at a pretty low ebb. I think I'm beginning to understand what 'burn out' means. Not a place I ever thought I'd get to. My support systems seem to be slowly falling apart and I don't know quite how to put things back together.

In a moment of minor madness last week I decided to run away to the hills. Just for a couple of days. Scafell Hotel in Rosthwaite was my place of sanctuary and I walked to exhaustion...

The advantage of a degree of constant insomnia is that you can get more into the day (silver linings!) so I left Norwich at 6.30am, parked the car at 12.30pm and was walking up into the hills by 1pm.

It has to be said that the weather was about as bleak as my mood but I've walked in the Lakes in heavier rain so, undeterred, I set off up the steep path through the woods which takes you up onto the fell above Watendlath.

The advantage of the wet weather was that all the streams and waterfalls were cascading along, surrounding me with that soothing sound of moving water...

This was a bit of a trip down memory lane; I've walked this path a number of times before - kind of a 'laying the ghosts to rest' thing. This fallen down tree half way up jolted me a bit - I have a picture somewhere of three little boys sitting on here eating Kendal mint cake with their Dad...

The top of the fell may not be particularly high but, even in gloomy light, it is breathtakingly beautiful up here...

Dock Tarn has been the site of a number of picnics in the past - apparently its a good spot for wild swimming but I don't think I'd fancy it much. This time it was seriously wet underfoot and I had to go a bit off course to avoid being up to my knees in marshy mud. But so peaceful...

And just as I turned towards Watendlath the sun was trying to peep through with patches of brightly lit heather on the other side of the valley. In fact, there was a faint rainbow across this view but it just faded as I took the picture...

Over the top of the hill looking towards Watendlath Tarn...

And as I looked back the sun suddenly broke through the clouds just momentarily. Oh...and that small stream? That'd be the path I'd just waded down!

By the time I got down to Watendlath there was even a teeny bit of blue sky...

The only disappointing bit of this walk was that I'd promised myself a cup of tea at the cafe by the tarn...only to find, no cafe!!! Maybe too much to ask for late October but I was a bit frozen at this point and hot tea would've been lovely!

Had to make do with a glass of wine in front of a roaring fire back at the hotel instead...

On the second day I set off early again with a plan to walk all day, conscious that dusk was going to be an hour earlier with the clocks having gone back. From the opposite side of the valley, you can head up through old mine workings onto High Spy, then follow the ridge down across Maiden Moor, Catbells and towards Derwentwater. 

The pictures don't do justice to the range of early autumn colour - the trees were so lovely I had an almost immediate change of plan and veered left after crossing the ford (more stepping stones than forded path!)...

...to head along the riverbank towards Longthwaite and Seatoller...

...then heading up and back on myself through Johnny Wood...

At risk of sounding completely antisocial, there is something quite moving about having all this natural beauty to yourself for a while. I didn't see a soul, no voices, no music, just the rustle of leaves, a gentle breeze, the odd bird and the babble of water somewhere below...

I did get a little 'misplaced' though - having not taken the obvious path up direct from the village I couldn't quite work out where it went and ended up going a bit 'off piste' and wading through this bracken!

Oh of course! That's the path!!

This was a pretty steep climb with the odd spot of rain again...

but when you get up there you have fabulous views across Borrowdale and Derwentwater...

It was a bit cold, which hampered my picture taking, but by the time I'd walked back along the contours through Grange and past Castle Crag it was almost dark and I just caught the tea shop in Rosthwaite for tea and cake in the fading light...

I don't know that I have dealt with all my demons but it was a temporary bit of escapism. What's not to love about this stunning landscape?

reconnecting...

This week I have picked up a few things that seem to have got rather sidelined in the crazy whirl of life - my camera has barely been out of late, the regular walks have gone by the wayside and as for anything crafty...

But a few cooler, darker evenings have seen me reaching for my hook and yarn again. Combined with a spot of decorating that means suddenly another blanket is not just a yearning but positively required ;)

I had a hankering after something slightly less bright than my usual go to colours. Initially I was thinking for my spare room but actually wondering now whether to put it in my room. I have just painted it a very soft peachy pink. Sounds a bit hideous but actually its nice - quite a warm colour and changes a bit through the day as the light changes in there. It reminds me of old fashioned calamine lotion... I've also stripped the paint off the ancient old beam in there and replaced the horrible freebie bed I picked up when I was scrabbling around for furniture 4 years ago with a lovely black metal bedstead. So I think it could take a muted blanket... Or maybe I'll just ring the changes according to my mood... 

I started off doing a granny stripe of cream alternating with pink, blue and green. These photos make them look a bit more bleached but actually the cream is quite a 'clotted cream' colour and the colours are soft but not too insipid. Then I got a bit bored (seriously poor concentration span!) and decided to add a row of daisy grannies. I might mix it up completely and and add some bigger granny squares too. My favourite blanket of all time so far (that I've made - have seen some lovely ones elsewhere!) is the daisy blanket at the top of my header. It was a completely made up as I went along random make - but is still the one that on the whole is at the foot of my bed. This time I might try to be a bit more disciplined with the joining up so its not so crooked but I like the idea of some continuity and simplicity in the colours but a mix of basic patterns. We'll see - I've a way to go yet as this needs to be full double bed size. The last one this big took me forever!

This last weekend was trying in all sorts of ways and after a pretty sleepless Saturday night I was up early Sunday to bright sunshine so decided to head up to the coast and walk a bit further round my beach walk challenge. When I started this in January I was trying to visit each of the Norfolk beaches and walk a bit but I have really struggled to get up there over the summer months so progress has dramatically slowed. The last walk took me (with Mum!) from Overstrand to Cromer so this time I parked at Cromer and headed out from the pier...

in the direction of Sheringham...

There were autumnal colours in the hedgerows along the way...

but the sun was glorious and warm and the sky and sea so blue you could be forgiven for thinking it was high summer. The tide was going out and the wet stones seemed to almost sparkle on the sand...

At East Runton I headed up to the coast path along the cliff top, looking back over the expanse of sand and shingle...

This path is easy walking with not much in the way of inclines until you get to Beeston just before Sheringham with views across open sea peppered with wind turbines on one side and gentle countryside and fluffy clouds the other...

Norfolk cliffs may not be very high really but looking down you do get a sense of the expanse of the beaches stretching in each direction, to say nothing of the precariousness of the crumbling cliffs...

As you arrive into Sheringham there is the usual row of coloured beach huts...

but also a real sense that this is still a fishing base, with boats and kit pulled up on the shingle at the top of the beach...

I'm always slightly fascinated by the demarcation of the sand and shingle sections of this beach. Its probably not obvious from these photos but the shingle here is hefty sea-smoothed flinty pebbles of a good couple of inches across or more.  It amazes me that the sea must drag them up and deposit them so neatly against the defences.

The sandy part is lovely fine sand and with the tide just out perfect for sandcastles. Isn't this a fab example?! Complete with moat and stone walls...

Heading on towards Weybourne past the lifeboat station, brave crews who I have every admiration for...

I think this beach looks as though someone has carefully swept all the stones up to the cliffs in the neatest line!

One last look back at the sea before heading inland again...

past another iconic Norfolk sight, this windmill in beautiful condition, repurposed as a home...

and up to the pretty church at Weybourne with its mix of ruin and working place of worship...

It was a lovely late summer walk, with real warmth in the sunshine and that sense of space that is not difficult to find her if you just walk a wee bit further than most do.

And another treat awaiting when I got home! I have been on Artesano's mailing list for some time and this offer of reduced Alpaca/wool DK blend caught my eye. It is sooo soft (much more than it looks) and felt very special in its purple tissue wrapped skeins...

This colour blend is called malt and although at first glance looks just brown, up close is actually a mixture of shades and textures. I loved winding it into a ball...

and couldn't wait long before starting to knit it up...

So far, it is gorgeous to knit with - smooth even and feels like it will be warm and cosy. Cooler, dark evenings looking better already!

S x