Perspectives

Perspectives

I thought this week I could write about perspectives, how we view something from another place. I was going to walk in a familiar place but come at it from a different direction.

Seasalter beach looking East.

I thought that Seasalter beach would give me the opportunity to walk out towards the sea on the vast expanse of mussel beds and muddy shingle, not skirting the coast but striding out, northwards, towards the Isle of Sheppey.

 

Seasalter Beach heading West.

But, I hadn’t taken account of what the tide was doing. It was fully in and on the turn but going out very slowly due to the ferocious chilly wind blowing in from the heavy grey expanse of sky to our North.

Birds perching out at sea

So the perspective of the walk that I was looking forward to, one of contemplation, with a feeling of possession, looking inland from out on the mussel beds, didn’t happen. I could have checked my tide table, it is an essential tool in the summer months to know when I can easily either swim in the sea or go out on the mud, looking for fossils or clay to make pots etc. But I didn’t, I don’t tend to look at it so much as the weather gets colder, so instead we had went around the coast again, towards Faversham, walking close against the seawall, watching the brown rough waves slop onto the exposed thin strip of beach.

Timber, old, exposed and weathered.

We didn’t see any Brent Geese, I should think they have ventured further up the coast, towards the Thames estuary; they will be more protected there for the coming wintery months ahead.

Weathered detail of timber.

Looking at a familiar place from a different perspective could be seen as a metaphor for life itself. We all have our favourite, tried and tested routes, ways to do something which we are comfortable with and familiar, but it can be liberating to go against the flow and walk in another direction.

 

Seeing the familiar, close up.

This is what creativity thrives on, as seeing the familiar from another place can spark a curiosity that feeds and nurtures an open creative mind. 

Light

 As we approach the shortest day of the year, the 21^st of December, I am reminded how much I love sunlight, especially this precious low glow of sun that can be enjoyed now.

Brilliant dazzling sunlight on a clear December day.

A couple of weekends ago I went to a day long event held in a friend’s studio. We had lunch outside and basked in the sun, which now holds just a little warmth.

 

Sunlit exterior space.

But it is the sunlight itself that we all enjoyed, the brightness, the way it made the colours of the remaining summer flowers deeply glow.

Beautiful Geranium flower, glowing in the sun.

That is how I feel in this precious sun, I feel I glow, it illuminates me, it lifts my soul and I feel good. As the day progressed it quickly became more evident in the studio that the daylight was waning and we appreciated the low glow of the candles which were lit.

The candles glowed more brightly as the day became darker.

Every year I try to spend at least one evening around this time, just in candlelight. I think it will be romantic, festive and allow me to go to bed early! But every year, I realise that the reality is that I still need those dark hours illuminated by electric light to do all the chores that need doing such as cooking, clearing up, homework etc.

 

'Bunny Ears' capturing the setting sun on their soft surfaces.

Our lives are regulated not by the natural timely element of daylight hours but by the invention of clocks, electric light and routine. We tend to have a daily routine that overrides the seasonal changes taking place. We must be the only animal on the planet that actively works against seasonal changes that are happening. The Brent Geese that I had seen at Seasalter and on Whitstable beach earlier in the season had known it was time to fly 2500 miles from Siberia to our warmer shores. My bantams will not start laying eggs until the daylight hours become longer again and the leaves will not start to grow on the trees until the sap rises in the spring.

 

Brilliant Spring Green foliage on the beach shingle, above the tide line.

Yet we carry on regardless. No wonder we feel exhausted.

Seasonal Experience

Walking and being outside as much as possible throughout the year does give me a healthy awareness of the changing of the seasons. I think we need this to understand where we are in the yearly cycle. As the days grow shorter I have really tried this year to take things a bit easier, to not push myself so much, to enjoy the moment, to just be. I see winter as a time for introspection, a time to contemplate the past year and reflect on its gifts.

Precious flowers.

I heard a wonderful quote last week which took the (self-induced) stress out of this season, which has already been taken over by the spirit of mass consumption. Black Friday, Cyber Monday etc, all these ‘shopping’ opportunities named and marketed at a fragile, recession hit population makes this quote even more relevant.

‘At this time of year it is your presence that is needed, not your presents.’

As I have to leave writing now to go and see my youngest son in a school production, this seems even more important. I have decided to spend my precious time before the children break up from school, meeting up and being with a lot of my favourite people as well as being outside and enjoying the season. Yes, there will be presents, but there will also be a lot of presence. 

View from inland, looking towards Seasalter Beach, a different perspective.

 

 (I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)