Worbarrow again

[puddleshark]

Yesterday, a walk down to Worbarrow Bay, on the first day of British Summer Time. The sun trying to break through the clouds and not succeeding, and a little light rain hanging in the air, trying to fall and not succeeding. March still can't quite make up its mind.



My first walk to Worbarrow since I lost Max. And all the things that are conducive to joy in spaniels - mud, deep puddles on the track, a cove of cold sea-water - only make me melancholy. But so what? Was I never to walk this track again?


Old coastguard cottages.






On the right, the coast path climbing towards Gad Cliff and Kimmeridge. On the left, a recent landslip.


Pondfield cove, with tank traps.


Rain out at sea.





The path through the woods by the deserted village at Tyneham has been closed, due to Ash Dieback. I wonder whether ash trees will one day be as rare as elms are now? (The UK lost almost all its elm trees to Dutch Elm Disease back in the 1960s and 70s. You still sometimes come across little elms growing in hedgerows, but they always succumb to disease before they grow to maturity).


In the car park, a horse-trailer converted to mobile café. Yet another little outlet belonging to the Salt Pig (a small Purbeck business selling locally-sourced and organic food). They also have a little café at the Secret Garden, which I visited yesterday. So I've now had their ferociously strong filter coffee (which gives me the shakes) two days in a row.