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February Days In England
The stillness of a windless February day in England is a stillness unlike any other. Even the most stirring of places becomes a sensory underload, sound deadened by the absence of birdsong, colours diluted like too-thin water paints, no breeze to carry scents, no leaves to decorate the woodland. Gorse splashes its yellow blotches on to the clifftops but carries no fragrance, its delectable musk scent absent yet for another month or two. Gulls’ cries sound forlorn and lonely, the occasional rasp of a jackdaw only serves to accentuate the stillness. If a skylark takes flight, its song is truncated, a burst of panic more than a trill of joy.…
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These Cornish Things
In our last blog post we discussed how unseasonable the current weather is, feeling far too mild to be cusp November. After over four decades of visiting Cornwall I really should have known better, for my comeuppance arrives swiftly and with a vengeance, in the form of howling gales and unforgiving hailstorms. Walking from Rock to Polzeath is a doddle, the morning clouds banished by the strong winds which, coming from behind, propel us along the coast path at roughly twice our normal walking speed. The return walk couldn’t be more different. Just in time for reaching the part of the path furthest from shelter, those winds, now head on…
