The Wilderness of Shingle Street, Suffolk

We drove out to Shingle Street while we were in Suffolk. If ever you feel like escaping to the middle of nowhere and stepping into what feels like a film set of ruggedness and wilderness then this is your place to go. As soon as we walked up to the beach, hiding behind tall grasses and cow parsley, we were taken aback by its glorious views. 

The curving bays; the outstretched shingle walkway that is known as 'Shingle Street'; the undulating beach with its ridged sweep of crests and waves that continue and echo with the sea; the shades and hues cast from the sea and sky all add to the spectacular views. Neverending valleys of shingle stretch  from the sea in the south right up to the north and a row of whitewashed cottages. 

A storm was brewing in the east and the sun was glistening in the west, the sky and sea culminating in a drama of turquoise, blues, greens, greys ever moving as the clouds shifted. Sea kale formations make striking natural structures, which add to the drama of the landscape. 

Pretty white flowers of the sea kale. 

Underneath the succulent, silver foliage of the sea kale you will find an array of purple stems, beautiful on their own. 

I began to imagine living in one of these whitewashed cottages, stepping out each morning to watch the drama unfold. There are lots of tales of smugglers in these parts and I could feel my own Suffolk version of Daphne du Maurier's Jamaica Inn coming on! 

A local lady stopped to chat on the beach and told us she thinks it is the most beautiful place in the world, with everchanging landscapes. It changes second by second, minute by minute and I have to agree it is definitely in that category. 

Little poppies have seeded themselves here and there adding a splash of bright yellow and softening the view. 

Sea weed washed up on the stones adds a bit of greenery closer to the sea. 

Sea campion give a simple oasis of colour splashed here and there. 

Near to the shore I spotted little pieces of natural debris washed up by the sea. I love the natural art forms they make. 

As we finish our wander and return back in land, the beach is flanked by Pyrenean cranesbill, grasses and cow parsley, adding their own charm to this area of natural beauty. 

There are raised pathways along the coast and into the marshes and you feel like you could walk on forever and ever... You want to discover where they can take you, but that is for another day. 

On our way back through the countryside I spotted the most beautiful wildflower meadow, full of ox eye daisies that just looked like a froth of snow. I made Rob stop the car to take some photos then we spotted yellow hammers dipping and delving in the sand!  I was delighted we had stopped the car, sometimes you just need to stop and observe quietly for a minute or two and you might be given a rare treat. 

I suddenly looked up after watching the birds and glanced the most unusual view across the horizon: a spectre of a ship shimmering on the distant turqouise waters. It looked as though it was just sitting above a house and over the rolling meadows! 

Do You Remember...the Wildflower Meadow?

We visited St Ives in Cambridgeshire last week and just happened to stumble across a stunning meadow, running alongside the edge of the River Ouse, Hemingford Meadow. It was one of those typical English, early summer type of days.  As we walked through the meadow by the edge of the river, my thoughts went straight back to my childhood and I conjured up those memories of going for long walks in the nearby countryside. Those days when the summers seemed endless, free and full of fun, the sun shining most of the time, big fluffy white cloud sort of days! 

I started looking a little more closely at the plants and wildlife and remembered the fun we had...

The river bank was edged with fool's parsley. The foliage looks a bit like real parsley, but it is in fact deadly poisonous. That didn't bother us back then though, we used to pick it along with other wildflowers and bring them home to put in water filled jam jars. Nowadays it can be unlawful to pick wild flowers as many are endangered species and we probably wouldn't want our children or grandchildren picking poisonous flowers! 

We used to have such fun with the dandelion seed heads. Can you remember playing the dandelion clock game? Blowing the seed heads and seeing if you could count up to twelve. 

The buttercups were in abundance! There is nothing like the sight of a meadow bursting with yellow. A real sign of summer. I was sorely tempted to pick one and shine it under Rob's chin and ask him if he likes butter. Do you remember this game? If your chin looked yellow from the buttercup reflection, then 'yes' you did like butter! We'd play this for ages, chasing each other around. 

Then there were always those dreaded nettles looming everywhere, we always got stung, however careful we were. Our arms and legs would get big red welts on them. Then it was time to search for dock leaves. We would hunt and hunt until we found them and then rub them on our nettle stings, supposedly to sooth them. They seemed to do the trick and we would carry on with our fun. 

We would wander along whistling on grass blades, well trying to whistle on grass blades in my case! There'd be other things to see, little plants of interest here and there, such as the black horehound that I spotted today by the riverbank. It grows on roadsides, banks and by hedges and is sometimes named 'Stinking Roger', as when it gets bruised it gives off an unpleasant smell, so the cows don't eat it. If the leaves are infused, however, it is supposed to be good for hyperchondriacal and hysterical complaints. I must remember that! 

There were lots of clover in bloom today peeping out in crops amongst the buttercups. I remember us being amused for ages, searching the fields for a four leaved clover! You are supposed to have 'good luck' if you find one.  I wonder now if our parents were just good at making things up to keep us amused! 

If you are lucky and look carefully there will always be some other interesting things to see on a walk through a meadow. In those childhood days it used to farm stock, fields of sheep and lambs or cows, sometimes with their calves. We would stop and catch fish from underneath rocks in the streams and brooks and that would keep us busy for hours yet again. Sometimes we might cross a field with a bull, only if it was tethered to a ring in its nose, but we would still be scared to death as went past! 

Today, the meadow I was in, was a riverside meadow, so there were different things to see here. Colourful butterflies and bees were hovering over the wildflowers. There were ducks and their ducklings on the river. I looked carefully across the riverbank towards the trees and spotted a heron, nicely camuflauged and waiting patiently for its next prey. 

Hemingford Meadow is situated on the edge of St Ives in Cambridgeshire. It has easy walking through ancient meadow, hedgerows, and along the riverside. Sometimes it can be flooded during winter and bad weather, but it has a beautiful open aspect on a sunny day.