COMMENTS IN THE SIDEBARS
This is where you can leave comments about pictures and articles in the sidebars.
This is where you can leave comments about pictures and articles in the sidebars.
What's over the top? This is what Hermes and Debbie asked when I showed this photo on 'Pictures Just Pictures'.
. . . This is what you see when you come over the brow on this stretch of path.
Portland Harbour - where the sailing events for the 2012 Olympics will be taking place - and Portland in the distance.
Not that I recommend you take your eye off the path, or you'll be tumbling down here.
Over and over, people make new paths as the old ones crumble away;
higher, then higher . . .
So that's what I do now - take the higher path, in case that next edge is ready to tip.
There are lots of little coves below; each one protected from the waves by boulders. They loop in and out like a lace edging.
Gorse burns - and there's a lot of gorse round here. This fire was recent; the smell of burning so strong it may still have been smoldering. On the way back, I met women bringing buckets of water to put out a smaller fire before it spread.
This is another photo from Pictures Just Pictures, 'Rusted Rails Near Ferrybridge'. This is where the path I was on meets with the route of the old line to Portland. When I first walked here, the tracks had been lifted but there was nothing but broken stone under foot. It has a tarmac surface now and lots of people walk or cycle in and out of town along it. Great! Except I feel a bit churlish. It was nice to be here when hardly anyone else was!
2 comments:
Snap! But mine was taken at a different time on a different day :)
I wonder who the chatterer might be and where were the other ones ;)
Thanks for taking part - it's been good to see what everyone's been up to at the same time!
Well, VP, I was very grateful to you for mentioning this moment. It's daft how such a small thing can make one conscious, however briefly, of one's place in the great sweep of history. It may be a very small place - but it makes one feel very solid, none the less, to know that one does, indeed, have a place there and that one 'belongs'.
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