still following the coast path...

I have been bit lacking in motivation for the last few months. Combination of major changes at work and some re-evaluation of personal relationships have left me feeling drained and with no time or energy for anything else. It feels though I have lost sight of the 'little things' that were my original motivation for starting this blog - my way of hanging on to reality and appreciating what I have. I do know that I should be very grateful - I have a home, a job and a family that I love. But I struggle hugely with a sense of overwhelming loneliness at times, a feeling that hasn't got easier - at least not yet. I am very glad my sons are so independent and getting on with their lives but it has served to highlight that I need to find a way of either changing or accepting my current status quo. As a confirmed introvert I am beginning to realise this is trickier than it might seem... Introversion does not equate to antisocial and I crave and need the company of people. But increasingly, I realise there are people that exhaust you by their very energy and effervescence - fab company in short bursts but lousy listeners and full of advice and life tips that suit their personalities and not mine. I find I want to curl up in a darkened room after time with some of these very well meaning friends. And then there are others in whose company I could be unendingly - those who know when to talk, when to listen and when to sit or walk in companionable silence. The people who 'just know' when I'm ok or not - sometimes even via a text. Who can make the world ok by the gentlest touch or a hug... The trouble is, the closest of these friends have jobs that are taking them hundreds of miles away. And I can't quite work out how I'm going to manage the void...

In the interests of self preservation and to try to kick myself into action I decided to pick up my coastal wanderings last weekend, on the first properly warm, bright day this year - or at least the first I'd had time to go for a walk. I took myself up to Blakeney and walked along the North Norfolk Coast Path to Wells.

Beginning at Blakeney point the path feels a long way from the sea as you walk past the boats out of the water for the winter...

...beside the mud flats, drained of water at low tide...

The sea is a way out there somewhere, across a wide stretch of sea marshes...

There was a definite 'proper' Spring feel to the air, as I walked along in a T-shirt for the first time this year, enjoying the warmth on my skin and the heady scent of gorse, splashing vivid patches of yellow beside the path... 

The sea runs inland here in long winding rivulets through the salt marsh, with the odd boat looking as though abandoned...

Couldn't help thinking you'd be brave to think this was a sturdy place to moor at high tide and step across to the shore...

Just in the distance there you can see the thin blue line of the sea on the horizon...

...and in the foreground, real signs of new life and new growth everywhere...

I've always thought there was something rather beautiful about the fat buds on bare tree branches - such sense of imminent transformation. I just know if I come back here in a few short weeks this tree will be clothed in fresh green and much of the view through its branches obscured...

Approaching Wells, a flotilla of boats , some just lifted off the sands again as the tide begins to come in, but with barely a ripple disturbing the watery images...

I had every intention of a quick bite to eat before the return walk but somehow my enthusiasm deserted me once I'd sat for a coffee and the Coasthopper bus saw me back to Blakeney in a quarter of the time.

I have plenty to be thankful for and need to remind myself of that regularly. And what are a few miles between friends...

S x

  

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

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