Portishead
The cold, clear, dry weather continues.
Yesterday Moonface and I walked along the coast of the Severn estuary south from Portishead.
The views were spectacular. From vantage points on the low cliffs above the mud and rocks, we could see 30 miles North across the Severn to the snow upon the Brecons in Wales, to the sun glinting off the bridge over the Usk in Newport, the bright towers of Cardiff, the clean lines of both Severn bridges, and far to the south; the Quantocks.
The pathway itself wasn't much fun. It was narrow so that we had to walk in single file, restricting our conversation and cutting the companionship of the walk. The trail was also muddy, with too much dogshit in the areas close to Portishead. Vile!
A few ships passed us, taking advantage of the falling tide to take them southwest towards the open ocean. But there were so few. Two hundred years ago, pre-railways the Severn would have been thriving with boats, taking trade from Bristol to the rest of the world, and connecting upriver cities like Gloucester with Wales and Devon. We walked past a memorial to those days, the huge Naval College built to train the seamen who ran Britain's fleets when we owned half the world's ships. When we first lived in Bristol, the building was a run-down school. Now, it's been beautifully refurbished as smart flats, looking lovely.
On our return leg, the light of the low sun on the muddy water was subtly beautiful. The clouds were white and shades of pink, with reflections upon the brown waters shading gently into blues and flesh tones. Nothing could have captured it; not a camera nor a watercolourist.
Yesterday Moonface and I walked along the coast of the Severn estuary south from Portishead.
The views were spectacular. From vantage points on the low cliffs above the mud and rocks, we could see 30 miles North across the Severn to the snow upon the Brecons in Wales, to the sun glinting off the bridge over the Usk in Newport, the bright towers of Cardiff, the clean lines of both Severn bridges, and far to the south; the Quantocks.
The pathway itself wasn't much fun. It was narrow so that we had to walk in single file, restricting our conversation and cutting the companionship of the walk. The trail was also muddy, with too much dogshit in the areas close to Portishead. Vile!
A few ships passed us, taking advantage of the falling tide to take them southwest towards the open ocean. But there were so few. Two hundred years ago, pre-railways the Severn would have been thriving with boats, taking trade from Bristol to the rest of the world, and connecting upriver cities like Gloucester with Wales and Devon. We walked past a memorial to those days, the huge Naval College built to train the seamen who ran Britain's fleets when we owned half the world's ships. When we first lived in Bristol, the building was a run-down school. Now, it's been beautifully refurbished as smart flats, looking lovely.
On our return leg, the light of the low sun on the muddy water was subtly beautiful. The clouds were white and shades of pink, with reflections upon the brown waters shading gently into blues and flesh tones. Nothing could have captured it; not a camera nor a watercolourist.
posted by Moses at
2:10 pm
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