A postcard from Arnside
If I was to add a bit of grain and scratch, this could be an old postcard from Arnside. But this is what the camera recorded: looking directly into low, bright sunlight diffused through moist air, the landscape became monochromal. It had been a day of showers and no sunshine, until the very end of the day when the sun peeped through.
I had stayed at home to work while I waited for the men to come to replace a cracked slate under one of the solar panels. They were lucky to arrive during one of the dry spells, and after a bit of crashing and banging on the roof, the job was done. Hopefully now everything is fixed and the scaffolding can finally come down.
Gus was pleased to stay at home and have three walks, in another week the clocks will have changed and a final afternoon walk in daylight will no longer be possible, and sunset blips will be confined to weekends (or days working at home).
When we were on the estuary walk, I talked to a man who used to sail in the Kent estuary off Arnside. He said the sailing club has become a beer drinking club, hardly anyone sails any more, but in its heyday (before we moved here), as many as 30 boats might be out racing at high tide.