There on the cliff top lie the broken ribs of the church at Covehithe. Where once people prayed the wind whistles through empty pews. Here is a skeleton coast littered with the pale bones of the trees that once stood tall and now lie anchored in the soft sands. A floral spray of roots rest upon the high tide line: a wooden posy to the folk of Easton Broad – long departed Suffolk souls whose homes framed these sea-breeze fields. Halt a moment. Listen as you walk these empty beaches and you will hear their voices still – in the soft susurrus of the marsh grasses, in the swirling streams of sand that play at your feet as you walk beside the open underbelly of the cliff face. The sea will take all in time, they sigh.
James Canton – Tidal Margins: A Suffolk Coastal Project