The melancholy of the late evening hut - # 101/2011

"It's time to pack up now, dear!":  that dreaded statement at the close of a lovely childhood day on the beach at THE HUT!  The smell of the interior of the hut, the warm cosiness, the packing up and plodding back home on foot. The lingering smell of egg and cress sandwiches and smell of Daddy's war time infantryman's primus stove for boiling water in the whistling kettle. The smell of salty sea air and the shock of discovering sea borne fuel oil stuck to your feet and swimming trunks. 

a Strong Woman - # 100/2011

...........a "feminist" term that seems to be increasingly popular these days.  I've nothing whatsoever against "strong women", but I sometimes find the term a bit annoying.

Anyway, here's a good metaphor for a really "strong woman". It's a massive and immensely strong, traditionally built wooden "clinker hull" fishing boat; on the beach at Hastings, alongside the old bulldover used to push it down to the water and haul it out again when it comes home. 

Hastings is the home of a very large beach-launched traditional-style fishing fleet that works the English Channel and catches fish in a sustainable and ecologically sound way. That's also a popular term these days, but it certainly does not annoy me! 

End of the day - end of the line - # 99/2011

At the end of a long sunny day at Hastings I came to the west end of the beach where the town has petered out and things seem to get a bit less busy.  I found a few enthusiasts' fishing boats and this line of huts. (Heaven knows what the huge shed behind them is for - actually I never noticed it, I was so engrossed by the huts and the boats! Strange but true!).


I can't explain why I like this scene. I just do. It might have something to do with the quietness and the "end of the line" atmosphere. I don't know.

The North Foreland light - # 93/2011

A landscape by the sea.

On the mud at Margate - # 91/2011

The tide's going out and the fishing boat is resting on the mud at Margate Harbour.  As you can see the usual brisk north-easterly wind is livening things up.  These old seaside towns like Margate once had great charm, but air-travel and sunseeking abroad have brought them to their knees and they now struggle, and cope with dereliction, trying to find a way to revive themselves.

Tough at the seaside - # 90/2011

This is typical for a day out on the English coast facing the North Sea. Bright sun, and a good north-easterly wind to make it nice and fresh (that's code for - "A bit chilly; I think I'll wear a woolly jumper").  However, the wind-sailor at Kingsgate Bay near Margate is having a good time.  But notice the coastal cargo vessel: she's anchored waiting for the strong winds to die down before she dashes across to Rotterdam. It was ever thus, since Dutchmen and Englishmen and Viking Norsemen took to ships.

Lurid Dungeness - # 84/2011

I think I overdid the tweak on the polarizing filter, but the startling effect on the sky doesn't spoil the atmosphere. We still get the essence of a typical Dungeness scene, with the derelict and the active, the old and the modern all functioning nicely together, and the wet and the terribly dry being baked under broad skies.

Dungeness derelict - # 81/2011

Dungeness: a huge desert of shingle on the south coast of England, so large it's clearly visible from space.  Look it up. It's a site of special scientific interest, a bird sanctuary, a Ministry of Defence live firing range, a strange community of artists and fishermen, the site of a nuclear power station and great for weird photography.  The day I went, the sun was hot, the sea breeze was strong and fresh......

B & W photo - # 76/2011

Study in black and white with four birds flying.

Making an impression - # 75/2011

Trying hard to get noticed.