My constant yearning for the sea led to a trip to Talacre Beach last weekend. Of course, the tide was out – a long way out – but we walked the several miles to get to it (just kidding) and it was enough to keep me happy for a little while. Unfortunately, at low tide there are pockets of quicksand/mud that you start sinking into very rapidly. It’s impossible to know where they are – one moment everything’s nice and firm underneath you and the next you’re up to your ankles in it, as this picture of Geoff’s shoes will demonstrate – a bit like life, really.
Even though the sea is mostly AWOL, I do like this beach – it’s such a huge, open expanse that seems to go on forever. It’s the very opposite of feeling trapped, claustrophobic, and limited, as I have been prone to doing recently. Geoff’s temporary job comes to an end in a couple of weeks and he has no interviews lined up or any other prospects. This situation we’re in can easily make us feel powerless, immobilised, stuck, and fearful for the future, so being in a place where the space is huge and horizons expanded can help bring back some balance.
My friend Eileen mentioned a book called The Old Ways, by Robert McFarlane recently, on her blog. She quoted something that stood out for her, and also intrigues me: “The two questions we should ask of any strong landscape are these: firstly, what do I know when I am in this place that I can know nowhere else? Secondly, what does this place know of me that I cannot know of myself?” McFarlane has claimed elsewhere that “cognition might be site specific” and that we think differently in different landscapes. He even wonders whether it’s possible that “certain thoughts might be possible only in certain places”. This idea took hold of my imagination when I read it, and I’ve always meant to go back and ponder on it a bit more.
I wouldn’t know how to answer these questions in any depth, but it does seem to me that we are enabled to think differently in different kinds of spaces. Positive thoughts are harder to come by in miserable environments, and being in a huge open space like this beach helps get things into proportion – perhaps by making us realise how small and unimportant we are in the total scheme of things (in a good way, of course). It also seems to me that being in a big space could naturally lead to bigger, more expansive thoughts. Aesthetically-pleasing natural surroundings help us in some primitive, physiological way, too. There have been numerous studies that show that hospital patients in rooms with a view of trees get better and are discharged more quickly than if they’re looking out onto concrete. Seems obvious to me, but it’s nice to have it confirmed.
But now, on with the photographs – first off, I had a couple of Gursky moments (wish I could get paid as much as he does for them):
For the rest, I just wanted to capture the feeling of space and the wonderful clouds and sky and water.
And then there were these amazing ripple patterns in the sand:
And finally, my favourite shot of the day. Turned upside down, it takes on a rather surreal look: