I am currently writing this post in the midst of a blizzard nor'easter. I'm sat, here in my sitting room, with the fire ablaze. Outside is white, where I usually see the sea, and the windows are frosted in Winter.
However, 2 days ago, there was no snow to be seen, but it was COLD. This week has had some continuous frozen but sunny days that have allowed me to wander our beach and shores wondering at the magic of frozen sea water and sea life.
Beachcombing in the ice and cold is magical
The tracery of a retreating tides magic can be seen here. The soft bubles on the "dead man's fingers" one of my favourite sea algaes next to the lacework of thing frozen ocean atop the exposed seaweed.
Jack Frost must love the sea and the shore because he does some of his best work here
As I crouch low, in the golden dead seagrass, I can get a fairy's view of this forest of magical icy 'trees'. On icy days, such as these, as the tide slowly recedes it is frozen in thin layers and then the water below slips out leaving little discs of ice stuck to the broken sea grass. It looks very like a tree made of ice in miniature.
The strength of life of sea creatures always astounds me, though I'm witness to it daily
This rock, strewn in seaweed and barnacle is frozen in time for the moment. The ice and cold has got the best of time and said, "Hold please, I shall just keep these creatures in stasis or a bit, until Poseidon sees fit to return it's life giving liquid".
It gives me pause, these little baracle locked up tight in their little houses. Is there a fire and a pot of tea? Or are they, thanks to Ice and it's control of Time, stood stock still in their little drawing rooms as the sun moves the shadows across their little rugs and across the chimneypiece"
The seaweed, is it getting it's life extended as it holds still in its own moment of frozen time as we, outside this Icey control, just watch the minutes tick off our wristwatch?
You can see, on an icy cold day on one's beach in the dead of midwinter, pontificating is ramped up. The stories I can see in these rocks are fantastical to say the least; I only wish the photos did them justice.
I step onwards, into the slush of the retreating tide
There are many 'squealchs' that accompany a Wellie: Spring Mud, Autumn muck with browning leaves stuck in, Summer sand rimming the edges of squishy salt marsh. Yet, the 'squelch' of a welling in a thin layer of frozen sea salted water with wiggling seaweed under, is truly sonorous. There is a deep clumph after the tinkling high notes of the first break of the ice...but I digress.
This icy but clear blue sky day was just a perfect moment in time. The endless ice forests, emptied of it's water fairies, glistening in the sun or caught in the shade of the Spitting rock. It truly was a grand day out and now, as I write this, it has all been erased.
The tide rolls in and resets it all
Now here I sit with the view obscured in the sitting room with white blinding snow, I know down there, amongst the dead sea grass and the very alive barnacle and seaweeds and other creatures, a new world is forming and be created as I sit in my comfy chair with my feet by the fire.
As the log cracks and drops sparks and my page goes unread, I know out there a new scene and a new world is waiting to be discovered. I'm lucky to know that when I can, when the snow has stopped and the wind blown off to other shores, I'll slip down there to see: what has Nature made for my amusement.
And let's hope I've the where with all to take my camera so I can share it all with you lot.
I hope you've enjoyed my pontifications and my few shots of the icy shore on that frozen day. I hope you get a moment to stop and see the small details of your world and your day and hold ,for a moment, that frozen moment in time.
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