We went to Cornwall with my parents – my mum found a little house to rent where we could take the dog, and off we went. For those who know Cornwall we stayed between Liskeard and Bodmin, and spent a week exploring the area (but deciding that we’d just have to come back so we could see the rest). I’d never been to Cornwall before, despite having wanted to for ages, so I was very excited and had a list of places I simply had to see.
(It says ‘No Pasties Left In Vehicle Overnight’)
We spent our first day at the beach, because the children were desperate to go, and it was sunny, and there was cloud and rain forecast for some of the rest of the week. So, we thought it best to make castles while the sun shone, and found a beach which had sand (rather than shingle or pebbles), had wheelchair and pushchair access and which allowed dogs.
We collected pebbles and shells, we made sandcastles (Granny very kindly equipped the children with new buckets and spades)
we paddled, we looked at rockpools, we tried our best to stop our dog trying to go home with every other dog on the beach…
With three other adults around to keep an eye on the children, I took myself off for wander along the beach (barefoot = free, no effort footscrub) with the camera, enjoying some of the interplays of colour and texture. It’s easy to think of beaches as largely homogeneous in colour, but often, if you look, there are tremendous variations of shade. Here, for example, we have a bit of yellowy cliff:
But when you get closer, you can see that it’s not all yellowy. In with the yellows we have greens and purples and greys and pinks. Which are colours that you might not put together, but they somehow work.
I have next to no understanding of geology, but I am fascinated by the way these rocks shift so suddenly from purply red to greeny grey. How?
I love the way that plants will find a way to grow anywhere – even with salt water and no proper soil:
And I wonder where these steps went, before they were worn away?