I’m catching up with some photo editing and these moody sky photos from last month and a visit to my parents, the first since March and since lockdown has been and overstayed its welcome. As there’s storms forecast this week, it seems appropriate to share these now. We may have already had the storms, they could be happening now, or maybe they’re still on their way. If the weather forecasters don’t know, then it’s anyone’s guess isn’t it?
Part of heading to the coast is to see the sea, and as you can see the beaches aren’t replicating the scenes from the south coast. Partly, I’m sure, down to that sky. There were many more people walking along the promenade than I’m used to being around, and initially I balked but everyone was giving people space, but even so we headed to the emptier end of town, stopping at the lookout, well to lookout.
Looking out to sea, over the famous cliffs and trying to work out if the wind farm was visible (only just!).
As ever, it wasn’t long before a couple of plants distracted me. The pink of the valerian and the egg yolk yellow of the santolina, which is another of those plants I should have in my garden. One day.
We headed away from the crowds, skirting alongside the bowling green where the stripes of the neatly manicured grass the clouds somehow looked more dramatic. And we weren’t wrong. As we reached the cafe, just at the end of this green, the rain started. So there really was nothing else for it, an ice cream at the seaside too. We were trapped, you understand.
But thankfully just long enough to eat the ice cream - it was almost as if it was meant to be. Just like the fact that a Norfolk post without lavender can make you question if it’s Norfolk at all, a coastal walk without an ice cream. Yes, exactly.
But really the dramatic skies were quite something. And I was happy to admire them more, from the comfort of being safely indoors, and pretty dry too.
Let’s hope I’m as fortunate with the storms that may (or may not) be on their way.
