Salt Marching on The Bay.

That sounds like a cue for a song somehow! And of course Morecambe is famous for those.
However this is all about a glorious day spent wandering the salt marshes of The Bay with two of the five precious grandgirls.

Vast skies free the mind to extend the edges of our thinking.

We feel like the first explorers as we venture out into the flats of the bay.

Binoculars reveal the remains of a cocklers truck sunk half into those wobbly jelly-like sands.

Healthy fear keeps us waiting on the edge ....

....but we see the tide come roaring up the bay....

...and so we turn and respect this powerful element.

Pools have been formed and then reformed with each tide as it flows in and out.

Deep gullies appear and disappear with each month that we visit.

And the edges crumble away continually as the water takes it's toll on soft sandy clay.

Landward is this beautiful old farmhouse, and we wonder how many more years we will be able to visit before this too disappears into the quiet waters of the Bay.

Only the sea birds are undisturbed by any of this.
Oyster catchers wait together for the rising tide, before taking off on their magnificent circus flying acts over the shining Bay.

[By the way...anyone interested in the music history of Morecambe, can see a stunning film of that at Morecambe Library on the evening of Monday 17th October and Tuesday to be screened through out the day. Any more information can be had from Sonja Campbell of Happenstance Arts e-mail sonja@snapshotmuseum.com ]

Cedric Robinson

Saturday was the last of the Prom Art Shows held in Grange-over-Sands.

I was feeling  lousy!

I had done my back in and I just didn't want to know anybody or anything!

So as standing and walking was less painful than sitting...I upped sticks and went off on a long walk.

West along the north edge of the Bay where it meets the River Kent.

Past salt marshes where sheep were grazing.

Past the railway line that takes you from Carnforth up into the Lakes.

Through green tunnels.

 Past ancient north country walls, sprouting greenery never to be seen in the city.

I spied an old farmhouse and took a pic. Smoke poured out of the ancient chimneys and the white walls shone in the autumn sun.

Under the railway bridge the path took me right along side of this house.

Outside the gate a stand held copies of the book...

....Cedric Robinson...The Queen's Guide for Morecambe Bay. 

I might buy a copy I thought and walked on.

Then changed my mind and went back to have another look....

...and there was the man himself.

Most of us in this country know about the dangers of Morecambe Bay.

The tides go out and leave 100 sq. miles of sand uncovered.

But as the tide turns it speeds in at about 30 miles an hour...faster than a man can run.

Also the sand is sinking sand. If you linger too long you may be trapped and unable to extricate your feet from the sucking down terror.

Recently the worst tragedy was the Chinese cocklers who perished when they were caught in the dark by the flood tide.

A guide is needed to weave a path through the sands and people regularly are taken out by the guides across the Bay.

Cedric very kindly allowed me to take a photo.  Then in my excitement...I forgot to buy the book!

I shall. I'll leave it on the coffee table up at the house on the Bay.

I haven't walked the Bay myself yet.

One day ...I hope!