I found it! I remembered that, to get to Halfmoon Bay, you can go through Heysham village and head out towards the power station. (Yes, those of you who live here, I know it's not difficult to find! But I struggle to find my own front door from inside the house sometimes.) I remembered the little car park, and the little cafe and ice cream place. You might recall that, a few weeks ago, I got lost trying to find this stony beach and we ended up at Middleton instead (that's Middleton, Morecambe Bay, not Middleton, Manchester). It came to me as I was falling asleep a couple of weeks ago, and I remembered the exact route. My memories are still there, they just sometimes need to be left along for a bit to force their way out. It's all good.
It's busy down here! This is the biggest crowd of people I've seen not-in-Asda since March last year. It was a little overwhelming at first, I don't mind telling you; but as I started to weave my way through the walkers, it very quickly became apparent that total social distancing was being observed. We didn't come within two metres of another person for the whole walk. Well done, Heysham!
For those of you who don't live here, yes, there is a nuclear power station here. No, it isn't in the least bit pretty. But there's nothing we can do about that, except perhaps look the other way. This is not a metaphor for life, just a suggestion for enjoying a pretty view.
If you do look the other way, you see this. I do love a beach sculpture. I wondered whether this one might have something to do with slavery at first, but I don't think so – those two men are clearly white. Possibly a wasted opportunity there. Then I wondered if it might have something to do with the Vikings, but the boat shape isn't right for that. I also thought it might be a nostalgic piece, remembering the swing boats that used to be here. Anyone over a certain age will remember those! I remember swinging in a boat with my Grandma Dora, bless her funny heart (if you're from the area and you've lived here for many years, you might well have known my grandma – she might have even pierced your ears when you were wee!). Anyway, I'm not quite sure what the sculpture is representing, but I suppose that's usually the point of sculpture, to make us think, contemplate, speculate and possibly reconsider. Maybe it's just meant to be pretty and eye-catching. Or perhaps it's just a fancy bench – that stone in the middle is meant for sitting.
Freya was on a short lead with a head collar today, being kept well in after her frolicking in the high field at Halton Park the day before this walk. You break the rules, young miss, you take the consequences! Besides, I don't think I'd have let her off here anyway – far too many distractions for a young pup that wants to play with everyone she encounters. But this was very good for her. She had to walk beside me, and she had to be patient and calm. And she did it beautifully. It helps that, with a head collar, she can't pull really at all – so we've fixed that little problem. Hurray! She's now learning to sit as soon as I stop, and she's not 'alf bad at it either. I did get a few pleading glances from her, and she said, 'pleeeeeeeaaase, Mum, let me play with the people and the dogs'. But I was firm. I did get a few well-meant bits of advice from other dog owners who told me to just let her off – but they wouldn't be the ones having to rescue her when she hurled herself off a cliff after a seagull!
'No, Freya,' I said, 'let's just look out to sea and imagine we're Vikings.' If you've been reading for a while, you'll know I've always been a Viking fan, long before the History Channel series. I did think about doing one of those DNA tests to see if I have any Viking blood, but I'd be devastated if there was none, so I'm not going to bother. I'll just be content with my imaginings, and my pretending that the '-son' at the end of my name means my very distant ancestors were Norsemen. (Actually, they probably were – I've researched!)
Being a Viking, it's a shame I'm not very good with deep water. I love the sea ... from the shore. It calls to me. But if I were to answer that siren call, I'd soon remember how much of a landlubber I am. About a decade ago, I went on a jetski with my mum in Barbados, when we were there for my brother and sister-in-law's wedding, and I had my first real panic attack when I looked down in the dark and evil depths. I'll never do that again. Snorkling in deep and clear water was fine, but dark water is the worst. A combination of hydroskourophobia and bathophobia, I think. She says, like she didn't have to look them up.
If you come away from the beach itself and up onto the grassy area that encircles it, you find yourself on a well-worn path that takes you all the way over to the barrows where the Saxon and Viking burial sites are. This really is the most beautiful spot ... maybe not if you're looking west because there's just no getting away from that concrete monstrosity. But like I said, don't look west.
Turn your gaze to the north and east and you'll be well rewarded. I don't need to say anything about this view, do I? It speaks for itself. I do wish I lived right here and could see this first thing every morning – I'm sure I'd be much more of a morning person if I had a sea view.
We just ambled for a good and relaxing half an hour. There was no need to rush. It was the weekend, I had no work to do, no homework to think about for the boys, and no reason to hurry back home because it was early afternoon and everyone had been fed and watered. If I've learnt anything from this past year, it's that taking time for myself to be outside and in no particular hurry makes me very happy indeed. Alright, sometimes it makes me cry because I get emotional when a view is especially breathtaking, but I love a good cry, so that's fine too.
We found a very small cliff that seemed a good halfway point, so that was where we stopped for a rest. We didn't get as far as the barrows because I wanted to save that for another time, and also I could see that Freya was already getting a bit tired from the excitement of seeing so many other people and dogs.
It's been a while since I showed you my shod feet, so here you are. I walk in wellies fairly often now. I wished I hadn't on this day, though, because it was sweltering. By Lancashire standards, at least. This was that first sunny and warm weekend we had a couple of weeks ago – the one that promised spring, just before it went rainy and cold again. I had to take my coat off and roll my sleeves up! That's the other thing I've learnt – if you're cold, do a bit of exercise and stop whinging!
On the way back, we took the lower path, which takes you a bit closer to the rocks. I didn't have the best footwear on for a clamber, but I couldn't resist anyway. And I wanted to see if I could make out what the birds were – I'm sure it's obvious to anyone who knows anything about birds and the sea, but I know little about either. I'm going with oystercatchers, but I'll Google these now ...
And I believe I guessed right ... although it wasn't a total guess because I heard someone say the name on a different walk a few days after this, so I actually cheated a bit. But I think life's too short to not indulge in cheats of this kind.
Here is what an oystercatcher sounds like: https://www.british-birdsongs.uk/oystercatcher/
I couldn't get close enough to the birds without breaking my neck by slipping on the rocks or by Freya pulling me off my feet to get to them, but you can see that there are birds of some variety that may or may not be black and white.
This is what the little bit of coastline looks like from down on the rocks. I think it's quite gorgeous, myself. So many colours, and if I knew anything about geology, I'd be able to offer some interesting facts about fascinating and ancient rock formations. Alas, I know nothing about rocks. I did find this really cool PDF though, if you want to read more about the bay and its geology. Personally, I find it best to be in the right positive frame of mind before thinking too deeply about things that happened millions of years ago, like rocks forming, because it has the effect of making me feel as insignificant as a grain of sand, which of course I am.
Freya and I finished off our walk with a sit. I watched the ferry leaving the port – they go surprisingly fast. Freya watched birds, people, blades of grass twitching in the gentle breeze, dogs and puppies, her own tail and my foot tapping. She doesn't miss much, my girl. Unless you have a tennis ball – then, the earth could disintegrate around her and she'd not notice, her eyes never leaving that ball.
Until tomorrow, if I can muster the energy by the end of the week to write another one! I'm a few behind again, and it's taken me a fortnight to write this load of waffle! But I have four lovely walks' worth of photos uploaded and ready to tell you about. If I can finish work at a reasonable time, I'll try!
Linda + Freya
Comments
Post a Comment