Friday 21 August
After yesterday’s post, diverting slightly away from the kinds of things I normally write about, I am going for a walk in the great outdoors. I need it. In previous summers, I have cycled with the kids, from Harwich to Home. But I want to walk it this summer. I’ll do it in two parts.
I am walking from Harwich to Wrabness today. An eight-mile stretch of the Essex Way which spans the county from Epping in the south to Harwich in the north-east. I set myself a challenge this summer to walk from Harwich to Manningtree, so have split it into two eight-mile(ish) chunks.
Wrabness has a few prize nuggets of history about it considering it’s size (small) and location (remote). For many years, including the two world wars, it’s coastal depot stored many of the nations sea mines that were laid in the North Sea and English Channel to defend the mainland from invasion and attack.
The wind is head-on walking south along the coast of the North Sea. Sand on the promenade prickles my shins and even manages to get into my closed mouth. My sunglasses protect my eyes from it, but fog up with a salty film from the fine spray in the air. The waves are battering the sea wall.
The wind also affects the light. I noted a patch of sun chasing the train up the track towards me earlier. Shadows of gulls being pushed sideways grab my attention. Now the swift-moving clouds allow the sunshine sun in and out. The heavily stirred sea is a trendy Farrow & Ball type colour. When the sun smears it with light it looks freshly painted. What would you call that shade of grey-brown?
1.50pm Stopped at Ramsey and a well-deserved pint (well I think so) at The Castle. Ramsey is recognisable from a distance due to its (now reworking) windmill. It’s located on the highest point for obvious reasons and was made in Woodbridge, Suffolk in 1842.
When I am walking in the countryside, every so often I have occasional moments of sheer bliss. Excitement overwhelms me and I stop still, even forgetting to breath. I have frozen on a path next to a sun-soaked field of grass where at least a dozen swallows are simply showing-off with their low-level aerobatics whilst catching food at the same time! And the cherry on top? A kestrel has just launched from under my nose into the sky and is swooping and sloping; into the wind, away from the wind, alongside the wind. I am also surrounded by butterflies and other insects who all seem to be crammed into the sheltered side of the hedgerow. Flipping heck, right place, right time.
Sat on a bench in Copperas Woods. The word Copperas possibly derives from the medieval English for the ferrous oxidised green of copper. The range of greens on show today is amazing. I have mentioned before how we tend to take trees for granted. They are a walkers best friend providing shelter from rain and sun and as a landmark to get a sense of direction and distance. But trees also protects us from the wind. I am sat in a clearing in the middle of Copperas Woods. I can hear the wind all around me, coming in from the distance like a breaking wave, getting nearer and then crashing through the boughs immediately around me. But here, on this little island, I only feel a slight breeze on the back of my neck. The trees have taken the full force. Above me, the wind has also brought in the grey clouds, time to move on.
Walking along and looking up is a lovely thing to do. I remember making a point of doing this when I used to live in London. We naturally look at what is at our eye level and obviously in front of us most of the time. We also look down a lot. But not much looking up. It feels good to look up. Looking up I notice that the tree canopies are bending this way and that. Their leaves are all a lighter shade of green underneath? It’s odd, like seeing the hull of a boat or clouds from above. I’m not used to it. The trees pump more chlorophyll to the upper surface as is faces the sun and will be able to turn more sugars into energy and growth.
Emerging from the woods and I’m nearly at the end now, walking alongside the Stour estuary. Along this open meadow space (where we have walked a few times now), I always get a good feeling. Woodland to my left, beyond the grassland. To my right a strip of marshland that gently bleads into the estuary. Beyond that, Suffolk.
These strips run parallel to each other and provide a range of visible textures. I love the fact that each one is a different ecosystem too. Seabirds, alongside meadow and woodland birds for example. So today, I look over one shoulder and see various gulls, waders and a Great Crested Grebe diving for fish. I look over the other and see a Green Woodpecker flying in frenzied shallow waves, some crows and a Magpie. The wind bends the oaks and beech, sways the willows and hornbeam, and flicks the young saplings who seem to be enjoying it the most.
4.30pm The end if this walk as I arrive back at Wrabness and alongside Julie’s house by Grayson Perry. It’s dedicated to a fictitious single mum living in Essex who tragically dies after being run down by a delivery driver on a moped. The story goes that Julie was born in Dagenham and was a hairdresser in Colchester until her untimely death.
The Bald Birder 