The last day of summer was savoured by us with a decadent day out to the beach. We had nipped away for a few nights earlier in the season when weather was fair but not especially hot. When the forecast announced a whole day of wall to wall sunshine, featuring no breeze and a high of 30 degrees for a Tuesday we knew it would be our final opportunity to enjoy the heat. So we headed off to the beach nice and early in the day for a time of lazing on the sand and not much else. Having failed to get into my current read, I'd brought along another book which offered a more instant immersion and fast pace. 

Yesterday we took a spontaneous ride out to the coast. Previously arranged plans had fallen through and we found ourselves with a day to spent however we pleased. Due to the sheer volume of rainfall recently almost everywhere is either partially underwater or saturated through so it did pose a bit of a dilemma knowing where to go. It was C that suggested the coast.
I changed into some suitable trousers, camera, hat, scarf and gloves then declared myself ready to roll.
Being a miserable day, with rain in the air and grey clouds hanging overhead the crowds were non-existent which is worth noting because if Boxing Day or New Years Day also dawns that miserable the place would be packed regardless.
Even on a mild day you can usually count on a cold breeze to nippy things up a fair bit, which was true yesterday. My hat with long ear flaps and tassels worked it's magic in keeping my ears warm enough which is all I ask.

 Sea buckthorne berries everywhere. I guess the coastal birdies don't favour these.



 Due to our shelter from the dunes soon expiring we took a left and headed into the woods. It was eerily empty, light and spacious. Usually woodland is brimming with undergrowth and is shaded by the canopy but not here. Quite an odd atmosphere. I lost my bearings after a very short space of time so it was fortunate that C had kept a good grasp of our direction.

C pointed out these berries and with what little we had to go on I will plump for privet, but I may be a long way out.

The feather caught in the bark drew my attention. These pine trees had such textured trunks.

 Mind your step.
 Bright spindle.
 Curious mosses.

Droplets hanging everywhere. Rain never too far away.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas! I hope to post up the habitual favourite pictures of the year in the coming days then start the New Year off with some resolutions.

Take care,
Sophie

I'll admit now that our visit to Hunstanton the other week absolutely knocked me out and I fell asleep in the car on the way home but considering we rolled up back home at 2pm I was feeling sleepy for the afternoon.
They say the sea air tires you out but why would it and how could it? Maybe because it's different air? I'd like some science behind this.
Taking a walk along the coastline is lovely and falls a close second best to laying on the sand in the sand reading or having a gentle doze. It does exhaust me when it's busy; what with catching snippets of other peoples' conversations and minding their wet dogs dashing round in circles. It is best appreciated when there's not a soul in sight but that's a rare treat and certainly not for the warmest weekend of the year when the coast becomes a magnet.

The roads into Hunstanton were jam-packed and busy getting into 'town' as we left. People would be sitting on the road for ages before reaching their destination. It pays to arrive early! We even parked on the free area. Lucky.


At first I thought this was bird poop on the rocks or even rabbit poop - rabbits can live in curious places but I've never actually seen any frolicking on the sand so maybe less likely. Turned out to be little snails or presumably sea dwelling snail chaps. Looks like my sieve-esque memory has filed the knowledge I gathered on this from my previous visit when I probably said the same thing.

Some weirdy finds. And curious rocks.







After outwalking the cliffs and reaching somewhere I couldn't name, we u-turned to retrace our steps. The breakfast eaten so much earlier was long since forgotten and rumbly tummies called out to be filled. I mooted fish and chips which would not only save us from the breeze but the seagulls and majority of the populate too. It was good to take a seat. We both enjoyed a sensible sized cod and chips from the place under the pier. As a former fish-hater, I persist in declaring that virtually all white fish are indistinguishable and REALLY cannot understand why chip shops doggedly cling to cod and haddock. Where is the coli, pollock and hake? They taste the same, are in plentiful supply and needn't carry the high prices of 'good old' cod and haddock - see your local fish counter for a price comparison. It annoys me no end.
Admittedly the main reason I now eat fish with chips instead of my previous stalwarts of sausage, fishcake or springroll is for the batter. Oh, how I love batter and now I don't mind the fish (I never said it was particularly nice, it's fine) I get to have yummy, scrummy batter. For a healthy* addition I ordered mushy peas and used copious ketchup. That's called balance, ahem.
*who cares

Plenty of interesting shells to spy but no seaglass.

Take care (and maybe take a nap yourself if the sea air penetrated your screen)
Sophie

It goes without saying that I'm biased about Norfolk but really, I cannot think of anywhere else that holds such diversity within it's bounds. From the sandy forests of the Brecks to the beaches of North Norfolk, the Broads, cliffs at Hunstanton and the changing texture of soil from field to field. There's a bit of everything. There are even a few hills if you lose yourself in the right places - just try cycling up them!
It's not often we head to the coast anymore; what with the allotment and general malaise around having to bother with busy roads and crowds we generally just 'don't' but at some point at Christmas we talked about heading to do a bit of fossil hunting this year. Sunday seemed the perfect day for it. Tides right, sunshine and a permitting schedule. We hit the roads after a leisurely start and arrived not long after 9:30am. It was quiet-ish.
I wore my now quite tatty all-round boots as I know from past experience that walking on the beach can trash footwear in sixty seconds flat. When we reached the exposed cliffs I was disheartened to see how much they looked like they had eroded. I don't know how much had fallen since our last visit but the amount of fallen rock on the beach was sad.
Curiously this chap appeared to be having a tidy up of the fallen rocks. See how he had collected the red rock and piled it separately? Wouldn't this be a futile activity as the tide will only come in and whizz it all over the place all over again in only a few short hours? I didn't like to ask.

I'll be honest, my expectations of finding any fossils pendulum from non-existent to 'there's a full dinosaur skeleton tucked away somewhere' but faced with billions of rocks to choose from there's nothing to set one apart from another.
The chalk rocks were willing to split open, especially those with a conveniently situated fault line. I didn't want to say crack but a crack.
Tah da! What's in here? Nothing identifiable except rock. I expect under magnification something would present itself but I'm expecting to see a full on example of a spiraled up sea creature or a dinosaur tooth.

You can see how the lighthouse doesn't look especially far back from the edge...
Birds were staking claims to the most meagre of ledges.
Tons of rock have been eroded...
Personally I hate going anywhere near the rock-face, it's so crumbly and precarious I just think there could be a collapse at any point which is terrifying. Sometimes you see families sitting on a rock at the foot of the cliff casually eating a picnic. I wonder whether they have even considered how ridiculously dangerous it could be? Or am I over-reacting? 
This was my favourite find which I am debating it's provenance. It's a rock I picked up. Now is it an imprint fossil of a limpet type creature or is it just where a metal brace has infused rust into the chalk? Either way I like it for having immediate interest.

A close up of the most 'interesting' opened rock. Is that something? A shell? No idea. Anyway, we didn't bring anything home with us. 
Upon our return we clocked the same chap still having a rock tidy-up. That's dedication to a cause.
More from sunny Hunny soon.
Take care,
Sophie