One day last week, we went for a walk in the morning – from our house along the edge of the nearby Dunbar Golf Club (good photos). We stopped at the fast running Brox Burn which comes out of the historic Broxmouth Estate and into the sea. Broxmouth House – on the estate and hidden from the golf course, was once a mansion of the Duke of Roxburghe, and is now a hotel and wedding venue. There was little wind that day – unusual for Dunbar – and the sound of the burn (stream in Scots) was calming. The photo below is looking back up the burn towards the estate. On the day we went there, the burn was much higher and hurtling down from the small waterfall at the top of the picture.
The Brox Burn by Oliver Dixon and reproduced under Creative Commons. (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)
I was liking the sound so much that I took the video below. I was about to add my voice to the video when I decided that the video might be more enjoyable with just the sound of the water. This was partly inspired by watching some of the mindfulness videos on the BBC’s Winter Watch programmes. You can watch some of these entrancingly peaceful videos here. There is a calmness about watching the graceful flow of water across a stony bed and listening to the various noises of the water – lapping, gurgling and swishing. Have a listen.
Me and my shadow at the Brox Burn
In the afternoon, we took the car to the next town to us – Haddington – to walk along the River Tyne. Haddington (good photos) has a long history and is maybe best known worldwide as the birthplace of the Protestant reformer John Knox. It was much colder in Haddington – 11 miles/18K inland from Dunbar – and the paths were icy in places. We walked along the southern bank of the River Tyne (good photos), past the pandemically closed (but normally excellent) Waterside Restaurant, across the main road and along the riverside to the weir. I took another video, this time of the rushing river water. You can see the video, without commentary on my Google Drivehere. I added a voiceover using a newly found video editor Animotica. I found it easy to use, but I was wary of its use when I discovered that it included a watermark. Normally, watermarks on such free software are invasive, but this one merely puts the name in the corner of the video. You can see and listen to the voice-added video below and decide for yourself whether it is better with or without voice-over – or it is good to have both!
Weir on the River Tyne at Haddington
On the way back from Haddington, we stopped at Belhaven Beach (good photos) featured many times on this blog. In contrast to the gushing, rushing water of the river, the sea here was remarkably calm. There were gentle, care-free waves lapping the shore. This reminded me of Philip Larkin’s onomatopoeic lines “The small hushed waves’ repeated fresh collapse/ Up the warm yellow sand” from his poem To the Sea. Although there was no warmth on the sand on this cold February day, the waves repeated their collapse and made a gentle sound. If you want to listen just to the sound of the waves, view and listen here on my Google Drive. I added a commentary on Animotica and you can hear this in the video below.
So I returned home with my three videos of water – all different. Belhaven Beach is on the west side of Dunbar and we live on the east side. The calmness of the waves at Belhaven was replaced on the East Beach by a big tide which was thundering in and smashing into the promenade. It looked like the waves were enjoying a rugby practice, as the incoming waves were tackled by the outgoing waves. It also looked like a marine version of a Scottish country dance – the Dashing White Sergeant – with dancers leaving one group and ducking under others to reach a new group. I put the version of the sound of the waves only on my Google Drive here. Below is the Animotica version with added commentary. This completed my four sounds of water – fresh and salt – with each having its own unique sound i.e. unique in the sense that they are all different from each other, but also unique in that the sounds I recorded last week can never be exactly replicated.
The days are slowly stretching out here in Scotland and whereas it was dark at 4pm a few weeks ago, it is now light until nearly 5pm on clear days, although earlier on dreich (pr dreech – ch as in German Ach) days like today when the drizzle has not stopped and it is ubiquitously grey. Earlier this week, we took the car down to Belhaven Beach (good photos) for a short walk. We arrived at 4.15 and were just in time to see a spectacular sky in the west as the sun was preparing to leave us for the day. In fact, that should be the earth was preparing to leave the sun that day. The photo below was taken from the edge of Winterfield Golf Course. The tide is out and people were able to cross the bridge on to the wide expanse of sand. I managed to capture the blazing sun just behind the cloud in the distance and this was reflected in the water near the bridge. I have been trying to improve my long shots following advice from Alison Leslie and I think this is an improvement on what I have taken before from this spot. On the left of the picture are the chalets at Belhaven. This area used to be part of Winterfield Mains farm as did the modern (from 1930s) golf course. The sun was turning some of the clouds pink as well as the water and it was an uplifting view.
Looking across Belhaven Beach (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)
The photo below is less clear because I have found out that the zoom function on my new phone camera does not meet the standards of the non-zoom photos. I was trying to get a closer view of the sun reflected in the water in the photo above and you can see the pink effect on the water and in the sky. To the right, you can see the snow on Traprain Law (good photos). It is a pity that this photo is not clearer as the sun on the water was a glorious sight. The lesson for me is that for zoom shots, I need to go back to my trusty Canon SLR.
Sun on the water at Belhaven Beach
The photo below shows Belhaven Bridge in September, when the sun is higher in the sky for much longer. There are only a few times a year that you can catch the molten gold of the sun under the bridge itself. There is a difference in the pink in the sky and on the water at September time i.e. it looks gentler and warmer. This is one of my favourite photos of the bridge, as there is a tranquillity about it – the people-free beach and water and the shaky looking reflection of the bridge in the water. It looks like the solid iron railings on the bridge itself have been transformed into shaky legs in the water.
Belhaven Bridge in September
I have read and reviewed two of the author Deon Meyer’s books on the blog e.g. here. Meyer is a consummate crime writer but also a consummate novelist. I have just finished his latest book The Last Hunt (review) and while I would not put it in the same class as Icarus, it was still a compelling read. There are two stories which eventually link up. The book is part thriller, set in Bordeaux and Paris and part police procedural, set in Cape Town. Meyer is South African and expertly describes the city of Cape Town as well as the sparsely populated country areas where a murder takes place and is investigated by Meyer’s complex detective Benny Griessel. The thriller part of the novel is perhaps less convincing – for me at least, if not other reviewers – and features Daniel Darrett who is living peacefully in Bordeaux, learning to make fine furniture. After an action scene in which Darrett beats off five men who appear to be ready to assault a woman, Meyer reveals that Darrett has a secret background in South Africa as a young soldier and hit man in the anti-apartheid movement.
The parallel story is of a murder on a train of a former policeman and it is this case which Griessel and his sidekick Cupido investigate. The man has been stabbed and thrown off the train but the case is closed as a suicide by the police authorities i.e. there is a cover up. As the investigation progresses, Griessel’s female boss Khaleni decides that the team must go it alone to solve the crime and to expose the corruption in the system. Meyer is very good at heightening tension and keeps the reader guessing as to which way the plot will go. Grieesel’s private life is also a feature – his demons as a recovering alcoholic are well portrayed – but I found the will he/won’t he element in relation to his asking his partner to marry him irritating.
The two stories come together in the end as Darrett plans to kill the corrupt South African who is visiting Paris. Meyer is particularly good at ending books i.e. he does not panic like other crime writers. My preference is for Meyer’s books to concentrate more on crime cases rather than action thrillers but this is still a book I would recommend.
Two Sundays ago, we drove out to Thorntonloch Caravan Park (good photos) and walked down the path to the wide expanse of beach. This beach is of particular interest to me as an author, as, in 2016, I wrote a book about the stranding of 147 pilot whales on this beach in May 1950. The focus of the book is on social history as opposed to environmental disaster – all the whales died or were killed. I interviewed people who had gone to the scene to witness the whales and what they told me reflected the period e.g. few people had cars, so people walked, cycled, went by bus or by car, often not their own. The book’s cover is below and the website is here. One of the photographs from the book – second photo below – was featured in the newspaper I read every day – The Guardian. The online article featured an interview with Sandy Darling, who is the boy in short trousers to the left of the truck. One aspect of this photo is that the men are smoking untipped cigarettes – a 1950s survey indicated that 80% of men in Britain admitted to smoking, so the figure was probably higher. Another is that there is no evidence of modern day health and safety.
Local history book on the whales (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)Loading dead whales on to a lorry in 1950
On Sunday, only birds appeared along the shoreline, along with some hardy surfers. The photo below shows the appeal of the beach on that day to the surfers and I caught the reflection of the surfers in the wet sand as one was finished and walking away, while the other one was venturing out to meet the incoming wave. This is surfing in Scotland in January, so the surfers have thick wetsuits, hoods, gloves and rubber boots, with only their faces exposed. The temperature that day was 5 degrees and it felt colder because of the wind. As the photo shows, there was a brightness in the sky and, as long as you kept moving, it was a delightful walk. Surfing has become increasingly popular along the coast here and this is partly due to the new surf school (good photos) in Dunbar.
Surfers on Thorntonloch beach
The wind was whipping along the crashing waves and I managed to capture this in the photo below. As each wave hurtled itself on to the shore, the wind caught the top of the waves and produced a spray effect. I also like the way the beach is reflecting the sky. It was a mesmerising sight to watch the sea relentlessly spill its waves on to the shore, in a coordinated, elegant and graceful fashion.
Wind on the waves at Thorntonloch
I took this video below but had to replace the original commentary as the wind was drowning out my voice, so what you cannot hear is the wonderful crashing sound of the waves.
Thorntonloch beach in January 2021
Last Sunday was another very cold but bright and partially sunny day, and there was a lovely light above Belhaven beach (good photos) as we walked along the old Dump Road, so called as the pond at the end was a municipal dump for collected rubbish until 1950s. As we approached Seafield Pond (good photo) a family of swans walked up the grass and on to the path separating the pond and the sea wall. One of the adult swans, hoping to be fed, came very close to us and other people walking along. The photo below shows the swan’s elegant and shapely white body with its pink beak and black eye. When you look at its web feet, however, they appear quite ugly appendages to this smoothly feathered bird. The feet are of course utilitarian, allowing the swan to glide effortlessly in the sea or the pond.
Swan at Seafield Pond
The cygnets in the swan family were less adventurous and stayed on the grass at the pond. The photo below shows the birds – getting whiter every week – grazing, with the hazy sun in the sky and reflecting on the pond and the reeds at the water’s edge. I have featured Seafield Pond – and photos thereof – on the blog in recent years, e.g. here.
Cygnets at Seafield Pond
We then walked around the corner to West Barns Bridge – see link to blog above – and I was lucky enough to capture the sun’s reflection in the water below the bridge – see photo below. The sun appeared to have burst open into a white ball in the sky and the streak of sunlight – like molten steel – stretched itself along the Biel Burn, which was quite high following recent rain. It was a very peaceful scene with the gentle flow of the water in the burn and the still-frosted grass to the right of the burn.
All summer and into the autumn, we have been watching a family of swans at Belhaven Beach. The two adults had eight cygnets and surprisingly, all eight have survived. These are mute swans and the first photo below shows an adult – male or female? – in the water. Swans are elegance personified and there is a calmness about this bird, as it gently makes circles in the water. The impressionist reflection and the clarity of the water at this stretch of the Biel Burn, which becomes part of the sea when the tide comes in, shows off the swan’s calm authority. The second photo shows the other adult, also reflected in the water but creating a smooth wake behind it as it makes its way effortlessly along the stream.
Adult mute swan at Belhaven Beach (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)A swan and its wake in the Biel Burn
The family of swans seemed very relaxed in the water as they swam up and down and finally under the bridge. The first photo below shows all ten swans in the burn, with the beach behind and the sea in the distance. This was in the early evening and there were still quite a lot of people around. The swans ignored us all, although no-one went into the water where the swans were. I stood right on the edge of the water and the adults blithely passed me by, ignoring this swan paparazzi. The second photo shows the swans closer up and you can see that, while the cygnets are maturing, they have not, as yet, gained the perfect whiteness of their parents.
Ten swans a swimming in the Biel BurnSwan family at the Biel Burn
The final photo of the swans sees them all gliding under the bridge in a quiet procession, like a human family out for a walk in the early evening. Perhaps the swans are communicating with each other, but there is no sound that I can hear. Maybe they communicate by gestures known only to themselves. This is no military-type march but relaxation in motion, enviously watched and admired by all.
Ten swans in a family glide under Belhaven Bridge
I took this video (2 combined) of the swans and in the first part, you can see the beach behind with still quite a number of people there, despite it being after 7pm on a September evening.
Each year, in late Spring, I lift the winter bulbs and plant gladioli. This is a random exercise, as the gladioli are stored in a cardboard box in my garage and planted out as they come. This means that different bulbs are planted in different parts of the garden and in tubs at the front and back of the house. Gladioli are described by the RHS as ” cormous perennials with fans of sword-shaped or linear leaves and spikes of funnel-shaped flowers” and are also known as The Bride. They are also commonly known as sword lilies, the name being derived from the Latin gladius meaning sword. the two photos below show gladioli at the back of our house, with a vigorous (albeit blurred) incoming tide in the background. In the second photo, the colour of the gladiolus matches that of the geranium below – purely accidental on my part, as I have no knowledge of the colour to emerge from the corm being planted in the pot.
Half flowering gladiolus
As regular readers of this blog will know, I love taking photos of flowers just when the rain has stopped outside. For the many people who receive notice of the blog outside the UK, this should not be interpreted as indicating that this part of Scotland is rain-sodden for months on end – prejudices die hard! Here in Dunbar, we get less rain on an annual basis than Sydney. Of course, if you go further west in Scotland …. The two photos below show different plants at the front of our house – again in pots. I like the shimmering quality of both the flower head and the raindrops in the first photograph and it is interesting to see how even large drops of rain still cling to the flower. There are fewer raindrops in the second photo but the colours are spectacular, with the deep purple centres enfolded by the gentler purples of the petals, which resemble the skirts of the flamboyant Folie Bergere artistes. The centre pieces could be ballet dancers.
White gladiolus after the rainLight purple gladiolus after the rain
The latest novel which I have just finished reading is Home Fire (review) by the now renowned author Kamila Shamsie (interview with author). This is a fascinating and very well written story about the clash between politics and religion and the family strains that involvement in such a clash can involve. Karamat Lone is Home Secretary in the UK and is of Pakistani origin. He is regarded as a Muslim although he is a humanist. The story involves Lone and his son Eamonn, who becomes romantically involved with another family, also of Pakistani origin. Eamonn first meets Isma in the USA and then her sister Aneeka in the UK. The main story revolves around Isma’s and Aneeka’s brother Parvaiz, who is indoctrinated in London and goes to join ISIS in Syria. No spoilers here, so I will give no more of the plot. The author does present us with an intriguing story and although moral choices may be at the heart of the novel, the plot nevertheless keeps us reading. Shamsie, like all good novelists, is an excellent storyteller and we can easily identify with the characters and the decisions they do and do not make. I highly recommend that you read this intriguing novel.
K Shamsie’s intriguing novel (Click on all photos to enlarge – recommended)
With the warm weather we have been having in Scotland over the last week, we have been going for short walks in the evening after our meal. A few days ago, we went down to Belhaven beach and walking past the bridge, coming towards us was a family of swans, with two adults and eight fast maturing cygnets. The photo below (taken on my phone, so not as clear as I would wish) shows the approaching swans. The group formed a straight line at first and looked like the peloton at Le Tour. When they came to the sandbank, they broke up and one cygnet (see photo) climbed on to the sand. At this, the two parents turned round and headed back out towards the sea. There is an elegant perfection in adult swans.
A family of swans at Belhaven beach
This prompted me to think when I last featured swans on the blog and this 2015 photo shows swans on Belhaven Pond, which is not far from the beach. This shows the swans in action, gliding along the smooth pond and making ripples. The trees in the background are in full leaf and I like the tranquillity of this scene.
Swans and ducks on Belhaven pond
For a more close up view of a swan family, we need to go back to this 2010 photo which was taken on the rocky shoreline next to Dunbar Golf Course, which is on the other side of the town from Belhaven Beach and just along the road from our house. This is a contrasting setting for the swans. Gone is the smooth pond at Belhaven, but there is still great attraction in the rocks and pools and rock formations here. The adults and cygnets look very contemplative in this photo and paid no heed to this human interloper into their resting place.
Swan family on the shore east of Dunbar
One of my favourite poems is Wild Swans at Coole by W B Yeats and these lines show his admiration for these magnificent birds who give us all so much pleasure when we see them in the water, on the shore or in the air.
Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings.
This post appears earlier than it might as we are off to Poland this weekend for a friends’ son’s wedding. Watch this space.
I recently finished reading Robert Crais‘ entertaining novel The Wanted (link contains video of Crais discussing the novel). The book features Crais’ thoughtful but sometimes troubled detective Elvis Cole and this is the 17th Elvis Cole novel. Crais is an established and well respected crime novelist – see this Guardian interview – and I have been impressed by the depth and quality of previous novels by this writer. This book, which was published in 2017, has an excellent plot and some very tense moments. The reader also feels that s/he has a better insight into Elvis Cole, the book’s protagonist. You can see a “but” coming here and it is that The Wanted is Robert Crais lite. It seems to me that Crais had a great time writing this novel, especially the two villains in the novel Harvey and Stemms, whose dialogue is both jokey and evil-intentioned at the same time. I found their meant-to-be-witty conversations unconvincing, but many other people may not. The two hired killers are trying to find a computer which has potentially damaging information on it. The laptop has been stolen by three fairly well off but bored teenagers in a series of raids on rich Hollywood homes. The baddies discover that Tyson Connor – one of the three teenagers – knows where the computer is and the book is a tense chase between Elvis Cole and his partner Joe Pike and the ruthless killers.
There is some very good characterisation in the book e.g. Connor’s mother, who hired Elvis Cole after she found a very valuable wristwatch in his bedroom. It is also a very good story and Crais is a master of building up tension and the ending is unpredictable. The Wanted would make a great read on a holiday flight but for a more weighty book, some of Crais’ other Elvis Cole novels would be much more satisfying.
Crime novel by Robert Crais (Click on all photos to enlarge)
As regular readers of this blog will know, we get some great skies over the town and sea in the summer months here in Dunbar. It’s not officially summer here until this weekend in the UK, but last week gave us a taste of summer, with some dramatic skies. The photo below (enlarge for best effect) shows a promise of what was to come later in the evening. There was a beautifully layered sky with many shades of blue and a hint of pink over Belhaven beach on our walk there. The photo looks towards the beach on the left and over to Winterfield Golf Club on the right. On the horizon, looking like a battleship, is the Isle of May (good photos)
Early evening sky at Belhaven beach
Back home, just after 9.30pm, the setting sun took over and shot its colours into the clouds to tremendous effect. At first, in the next photo (best enlarged) the glow was mainly over the town, with the outline of the buildings and their chimneys making it look as if the town was one huge castle, with many battlements. The clouds were tinged with orange and it was an eye-catching sight, but better was on its way.
Setting sun over Dunbar
Gradually, although over the space of only about 15 minutes, the colours changed to deep pink and then red. In this photo (best enlarged), I like the contrast between the blackened town, the light blue sky, the darker cloud at the top and the reddening clouds at the bottom right, which were changing before my eyes.
Brilliant sunset over Dunbar
The final photo (best enlarged) highlights the sky itself. Look at the dazzling shapes of the clouds and the interweaving of the clouds, which actually appear to be in motion even in this still photograph. It was as if molten metal had been poured into the sky at various points. I watched this mesmerising view for ten minutes before it took fright and disappeared into the darkness, never to return in exactly the same formation.
As noted earlier, this “weekly” blog will be less frequent while I am writing a new local history book.
I was out on my bike last week cycling past the village of Stenton which was featured on the blog recently. The blackthorn bushes (good photos) are now in full blossom on the road out of the village going west towards Pressmennan Lake, and passing Ruchlaw Mains West farm (good photo), where there’s a steep hill. It is one of these deceptive hills in that you think you are at the top when you see the sign to Pressmennan Wood and lake (good photos), but there is a nasty further climb as you veer right. It is always a relief to get to the top and look over the rolling fields. After another short climb, I came across two fields that were strewn with sheep and very young lambs. The sun was on the fields and it was an entrancing rural sight, like something out of the Far from the Madding Crowd book and film.
The first photo shows the sheep and lambs scattered across this field and in the back ground is Traprain Law (good photos). The ewes were very aware of my presence even although they were not close to the fence surrounding the field. the lambs meanwhile seemed more intent on suckling than looking at this passing photographer.
Field of sheep with Traprain Law in the background (Click on all photos to enlarge)
The next photo was taken in the field opposite, which is at the bottom of a hill and beyond the sheep, you can see the foot of the hill which is extensively covered in gorse bushes. The gorse at this time of year provides a welcome splash of yellow, but it is an invasive species and needs to be controlled. Close up, while the yellow flowers of the gorse are attractive, it is still a very thorny and aggressive pant. The other noticeable aspect of this photo is the numbers on the back of the sheep and each lamb is also numbered, to link it to its mother. Presumably this is for the shepherd who finds a stray lamb and who can reunite it with its mother. Alternatively, it may be that East Lothian has numerate sheep.
Numbered sheep and lambs at Deuchrie Dodd
The bridge at Belhaven Beach has been widely photographed and has featured on the blog more than once. I have tended to take photos of the beach in September, when the setting sun shines over and under the bridge. Last week, we went for a short postprandial walk along the beach when the tide was just going out. The bridge, when the tide is in, is referred to as the bridge to nowhere, and you can see why in the photo below. The bridge is surrounded by water and on the horizon to the right, looking distinctly snail-like, is the Bass Rock on which 150,000 gannets will soon be living.
The bridge to nowhere at Belhaven Beach
The next photo was taken as we passed the bridge, walking along the beach towards the south and you can see the line of the concrete path to the bridge just appearing as a line to the left of the right hand base of the bridge.
Retreating tide at Belhaven beach
When we returned only a few minutes later, the path could be clearly seen, so the tide was going out very quickly. In this photo, the reflection of the bridge is quite clear, but to the naked eye it was just a shimmer in the water, as the bridge reinvented itself upside down in the evening tide.
The reappearing path at Belhaven Bridge
The final photo shows the sun coming under the bridge and this is a wonderful sight, as if the water is being turned into molten gold, which if it solidified would make a solid gold pathway under the bridge. The origins of the bridge are currently being investigated by the local history society.
On New Year’s Day, we woke to 2019 to see a fairly clear sky and a sunny day albeit with a coldish westerly. So as to make the most of the light, we headed off in the morning to St Abbs Head, which has featured many times on this blog and is one of our favourite places. We parked overlooking the harbour and there is a superb view from here, as in this 2017 photograph, which takes in the main harbour, the outer harbour and the lifeboat station.
Looking down on St Abbs Head Harbour (Click on all photos to enlarge)
We walked from east to west as far as the lighthouse which was built by the Stevenson brothers in 1862. It’s an unusual lighthouse in that it sits on the edge of the mainland, high above the sea, as in the photo below.
St Abbs Head lighthouse
On the walk there and on the way back, we noticed that an area next to the shore had been cordoned off and a notice said that seal pups were being protected. We saw 2 pups down on the rocky shore. When they are still, the pups are very well camouflaged and look like some of the bigger rocks. So silky smooth when in the water, the seal pups clumsily made their way across the rocks to the flatter part of the shore, maybe to enjoy the winter sun. I could not find any current information on the seals, but this 2017 report (good photo) is very informative about the St Abbs seals.
Back at the car above the harbour, I took this short video.
On the 2nd January, we took a walk along the wide stretch of Belhaven Beach. When we got to the bridge, although the tide was out, it was not far enough out and we could not cross the bridge, as the far end was covered in water. So we walked along the Dump Road to West Barns Bridge (photos from previous post) and out to the beach. The wind had eased from yesterday, so it was warmer and we could stand and watch the huge waves hurtle themselves on to the beach. There were quite a few surfers out and while some eased gracefully along a big wave, others were knocked flat by an incoming rush of water. There was a glorious sound of incoming waves, followed by a sluuurrrp as the waves hit the beach and dashed back out. The photo below shows the drama of the waves.
Big waves and minuscule surfer on Belhaven Beach
I took a video of the waves and swung the camera round to see the chalets at Belhaven with the golf course behind.
The last stop on our overseas trip was to visit our very good friends Bob and Robyn at their idyllic house near Berry in New South Wales. They met us off the train at Kiama which is a very attractive coastal town not far from Berry. There’s a very good fish and chip shop/restaurant that overlooks the water – The Kiama Harbour Cafe. The fish and chips were excellent, but what is different about this fish and chip shop is that they have a pelican which nonchalantly walks about the shop and cafe – see the photo below -which shows the pelican waiting expectantly for fish – it does not like chips apparently – next to our table.
Friendly pelican in Kiama cafe
Kiama is probably best known for its spectacular blowhole (good photos) and it is a fascinating sight, as people watch in anticipation of the seawater being blasted into the air. The blowhole’s action comes from large waves entering a small cavern and compressing the air, which then forces the water out of the gap. This photo below shows a medium-sized eruption of water. You watch and watch for the really big blow-out and of course, this happens when you walk away and hear the other viewers yell out “WOW!”. There is an excellent coastal walk that you can do when visiting Kiama, taking in more than one blowhole, fascinating rock structures and unspoilt beaches.
The Poetry Book Society Choice for Autumn 2016 was Alice Oswald’s new book – Falling Awake. This is an astonishing book of poems and has won some literary prizes. In the book, Oswald is not just close to nature, but inside it, and she demonstrates how elements of nature are interlinked, and how nature affects our lives , but also has a life of its own. The first poem A Short Story of Falling begins “It is the story of the falling rain/ to turn into a leaf and fall again/ it is the secret of a summer shower/ to steal the light and hide it in a flower”. These dramatic images – a shower stealing the light – continue in all the poems. In Fox, the narrator hears ” a cough” in her sleep and it is ” a fox in her fox-fur/ stepping across/ the grass in her black gloves/ [which] barked at my house”. In other poems, we hear of a badger “still with the simple heavy box of his body needing to be lifted” being “hard at work/ with the living shovel of himself”. In “A Rushed Account of the Dew”, there’s an amazing image of water on a plant, as the poet imagines the dew “descend/ out of the dawn’s mind”, and affix “a liquid cufflink” on to a leaf. In Shadow, the poet describes the shadow as having ” a flesh parachute of a human opening above it” – as you see, there’s a vivid imagination at work here. There are many more images of falling in the subsequent poems. I’m only half way through the book and will return to it in the blog. I agree with the Guardian reviewer that “I cannot think of any poet who is more watchful or with a greater sense of gravity”.
“Falling Awake” by Alice Oswald
This week, we’ve had cold, but very bright days, especially in the morning. Having cycled past Seafield Pond (good photos) on Monday and seen a gathering of ducks on the grass verge, I ventured back there on foot on Tuesday – in the morning sunlight. The ducks were gone, but over the wall on Belhaven Beach, there was a scattering of seagulls, some oystercatchers and curlews, but also 2 little egrets (photos, video and bird call). As I got my camera ready, there was a sudden squawking, a brief flurry of wings by both birds, and one took off for the pond. I managed to get two photos of the constantly moving little egret. They are not the clearest of photos and maybe, I should have used a sports setting on my camera. However, they do show the elegance of this bird, with its long beak, tiny eye and large yellow feet, which help them to steady themselves on the slippery sand below the water.
Little Egret on Belhaven Beach (Click to enlarge)
In second photo, I like the shimmering reflection of the bird’s body in the water, its shadow (with flesh parachute of a bird opening above it, as Oswald might have put it) and the corrugated sand.
Little Egret and reflection on Belhaven Beach
While the egrets and oystercatchers are nervous birds and will fly off if you get anywhere near them, the swans on Seafield Pond simply float towards you. OK – they are looking for food, but I also think that swans are narcissistic birds. They glide toward you, inviting you to photograph their haughty serenity. They move slowly, like elegant models on a catwalk, then dip their heads in the water. The first photo shows 2 swans coming towards the bank, where I’m standing at the water’s edge. There are other birds, such as coots, but these have swum away in panic and have hidden behind the tall reeds (2nd photo). See the causal elegance here, with the swans more interested in their own reflections than the presence of a would-be photographer.
Elegant swans at Seafield Pond
Coots behind the reeds at Seafield Pond
The first swan pushed its head under water a few times and after several attempts, I managed to get a shot with water dripping from its beak. Look at the perfect outline of its body, the giraffe like neck and its body like a small iceberg. You can watch swans all day.
Firstly, for those in Australia, I hope that your Australia Day went well and those of you in the Sydney area didn’t get too wet. On Sunday, my wife and I were out at The Whitesands helping with marshalling and timing of the Borders Cross Country event. There were 84 junior runners and 163 seniors taking part in separate races. The races started on Whitesands Beach and the juniors ran along the beach towards Dunbar Golf Course, back over the beach, up the hill and over to Barns Ness Lighthouse. The adults went past the lighthouse, on to a stretch of beach, on to a track near the Dry Burn (burn=stream and this one dries up in summer) and back on narrow tracks to the Whitesands. The photos below show the start of the junior and adult races and the adults returning across the sands.
Junior cross country race at Whitesands
Adult cross country race at Whitesands
Adult cross country race at Whitesands
To Belhaven Beach, on the other side of Dunbar from the Whitesands. I’ve featured Belhaven Beach on this blog before and will again. It is a wide sweep of beach and a glorious walk at all times of the year. This week, there was a cold SW wind blowing the sand across the beach, a stunning site but I failed to do it justice with my camera, so no desert type photos of rushes of sand over sand. The sand itself is very firm in some parts, very ridged in others and very soft near the sand dunes. This was a sparkling Scottish winter afternoon, with sun now higher in the sky and delineating the metal structure of Belhaven Bridge on the beach – in the photos below. The tide was well out for our walk, but people can get stranded as the tide comes in fast and covers the bridge’s steps. You can see two contrasting views of Belhaven Bridge from a previous post. You can walk for about 5k along the beach and back, or you can walk around the John Muir Country Park. The sea was a postcard blue next to the beach, with some interesting driftwood and views out to the Bass Rock – see photos below.
Belhaven Bridge
Belhaven Bridge shadow
Runners’ tracks on Belhaven Beach
Driftwood on Belhaven Beach with Bass Rock in the distance
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