one hundred photos last week my spanish galga Bims and I went to Morston for a walk out on the saltmarsh I put the hipstamatic camera app on my phone to “shake to randomise” in the interests of exploring the many many filters and effects I’ve accumulated and this is a photo essay with the best of them. above Mabel lens and sequoia film looks like an ancient Kodak slide from the 1930’s. it was particularly muddy because the tides have been extra high as the full moon (a super-moon) approached and a beautiful mild and sunny day – a soft sky webbed with vapour trails the plant life of salt-tolerant grass, sea lavender and suaeda maritima (sea-blite) still looking grey-brown and dry – a bit livened up by this picture and the shrubby sea-blite, suaeda fructicosa, with its fleshy pink and green leaves, more colourful in some places. I walked (Bims galloped and got very muddy) to Morston meols creek. Meols is a Viking word for the land between farmland and high tide. (Hipstamatic: tejas lens, hackney film – this is the prettiest new combination, I think) I have just bought a book with Godfrey Sayers’ record of the names given to the marshes, mud pools, sand banks and creeks by generations of fishermen most of them are wonderfully evocative – I list them here, but they don’t relate to the photos – Blacknock, Billy’s drain, Stonemeal creek, Patch Pit creek, Simpool, the main lagoon of course known as the Pit, looking across it to the old lifeboat house on Beachway. the Freshes where the Stiffkey joins the harbour, its course and the tides controlled by two big sluices, Freshes creek, where the mussel fishermen used to bring their harvest Agar creek and Dead Man’s Hole over by Blakeney, Warham Hole, High Sand creek out on the sand bank, on the spit itself, Stanley’s Cockle Bight, the Hood, Wallsbeck, Tibby Head, Scalpe Run and Blackwater creek at the head of Morston Creek (generally known as the Channel by contemporary sailors) Garborough Creek and Lady Crick, the Run, and Down Below, the channel out to open sea. while I was busy peering at my phone, Bims got very involved with the sad flipper remains of a seal. she wanted to bring this greasy stinking object home, but it was too heavy. so she rolled her shoulders, neck, ears and collar in it. and her muzzle was pretty oily too. so she had a coal tar shampoo bath when we got home. I also did a stupid thing – due to my new varifocals I put my foot in a hole and came down on my side so that my fist, hanging onto B’s lead, punched my ribs. which are very sore. yoga is painful. one has to pay for art. Post navigation a february diaryabstract paintings 4 Comments That’s really lovely, Jane. Some exquisite photos with wonderful clour and tonality of places with amazing names. Thank goodness they are preserved in the book. Reply Love the old names 🙂 Great photos. Shame about your poor ribs……. Reply I loved looking and reading Jane, thank you so much. Your photos are a reminder of a place I love and to see your interpretation of it is a joy. Reply Such an embodied connection with, and Earth-based love of the names and detail of landscape. I do hope that your ribs recover fast – I think that they take their own time and no real treatment is available – but the wretched soreness does go IMExperience Such a grace-full cardigan…. Best Tomx Reply Leave a Reply to Paul Reeve Cancel reply This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.