The frost giant blows from the South West and heavy snow has fallen. The paths are icy and treacherous and the shingle crunches underfoot. On the saltings the pools are freezing over. There are still a few hopeful sandelings and plover working the edges and a group of lapwings flew off at my approach. From my window it looked as though there were trees floating in the sea. I rushed down to the beach to investigate this strange phenomenon. It turned out to be a trick of the light. The sun reflecting of the ice and snow made it seem as though the frozen tufts of marron grass were floating.
- A Relationship with Rock. April 27, 2017
- A group dérive April 12, 2017
- Epping Forest – in the footsteps of Clare March 25, 2017
- Ornith-ology: The Poetry of Birds March 1, 2017
- Wild in Manchester December 30, 2016
- Litle Baddow – retracing Baker December 16, 2016
- Walking the Sailor’s Path December 5, 2016
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