Ronnie follows up a post about silence, with a post about nowhere and Angel Delight. Hmm.
We’ve been on this walk before. Sarah wrote about it before. About ‘The Beyondness of Things’ – this time ‘The Edge of Nowhere’. Get the idea. It’s like walking off the edge of the known world.
Even if you’re not using the walk as a metaphor, it still feels like a mythic thing to do. To walk right out into the mouth of an estuary, to get to three tiny islands, only reachable at low tide.
Setting off from West Kirby.
Sarah looks out to our distant destinations.
And sets off. To Little Eye, Middle Eye and Hilbre.
It’s as much a meditation as a walk. And we are walking in the footsteps of other contemplatives.
Contemplating the edge of nowhere.
This is the vast mouth of the Dee Estuary. To our right, to the north, is Liverpool Bay, and home. And to our left, the coast of North Wales. And the optical illusion on a fine day, is that we could walk right across the sand to either of them. Or keep walking into the west, to Ireland.
Arriving at Little Eye, the first of the desert islands. Scraps of seaweed and sandstone. Hardly there.
A pool of shells. From life to sand.
The seaweed clings to the rock. Soon the sea will come back in.
Finding shards of china in the sand. What might be the story?
Looks like Sarah’s found someone to talk to.
Arriving at Middle Eye. More ‘there’ than the little one.
Seathrift on Middle Eye. You have to be tough to be a wildflower round here.
As tough as Bluebells.
Time for a rest in the gorgeous machair -like springy grass.
In fact, its time for lunch.
And once again we dine in a mild drizzle. Like being inside a cloud, really. We don’t mind at all.
And soon we arrive at Hilbre. Carved from wind-whipped sandstone.
These days mainly used as a weather-station.
And before that a lifeboat station.
With a maybe not so cosy fireplace.
And a long ago history of monks and traders living here. And going to and coming from Ireland. Like most of us who live here now.
Walking homewards now. And one set of footprints tired and dragging in the sand. Pick your feet up Sarah!
In fact, the consistency of the sand at this point reminded us both of Angel Delight. Remember that? A chemical by-product passed off to children in the seventies as a delicious dessert. Oops, just checked. Delete ‘chemical by-product’ reference. This wholesome and entirely natural foodstuff is still available!
Coming towards evening. The shining edge of nowhere.