Thin Place

St.John’s, Waberthwaite - with Viking cross shaft in the foreground

Walked part of the coast path and had a sea swim at Silecroft.

It has to be Norman, of course …


Sea to the West - Norman Nicholson

When the sea’s to the west 
The evenings are one dazzle - 
You can find no sign of water. 
Sun upflows the horizon; 
Waves of shine 
Heave, crest, fracture, 
Explode on the shore; 
The wide day burns. 
In the incandescent mantle of the air. 

Once, fifteen, 
I would lean on handlebars, 
Staring into the flare, 
Blinded by looking, 
Letting the gutterings and sykes of light 
Flood into my skull. 

Then, on the stroke of bedtime, 
I’d turn to the town, 
Cycle past purpling dykes 
To a brown drizzle 
Where black-scum shadows 
Stagnated between backyard walls. 
I pulled the warm dark over my head 
Like an eiderdown. 

Yet in that final stare when I 
(Five times, perhaps, fifteen) 
Creak protesting away - 
The sea to the west, 
The land darkening - 
Let my eyes at the last be blinded 
Not by the dark 
But by the dazzle.