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  • Dee Lister

The colours of the earth

Updated: Feb 3

(14 September 2020)

I walked from Silverdale village onto the spacious, gracious sweep of beach overlooking Morecambe Bay. All was silent except for a gentle flowing wind catching my coat. 

There were sounds of seabirds as they flew high and low around me. I spotted a bird of prey, a little black and white dipper.


I walked and stopped every few steps to take in the exquisite sights, a panoramic delight.

I was a timeless wanderer focusing on nothing and everything, within a scene at once dramatic yet serene.


The beach edges carved out stark, jagged angular rocks.


There was a blanket of mossy softs at the bottom of rock formations.


These vibrant greens introduced layer upon layer of earth and rock reaching far into the distance, high off the coast.


It reminded me of the jars of sand you can buy as gifts, though with a gentle earthy palette of vibrant greens, greys, purples, yellows, browns, blues.


There were spaces for creatures to crawl, scuttle, creep to find places to rest, live, eat. 


My feet met the soft wet squelch of damp sand, or skirted the surface of soft sand in dry ripples.


If I dared seek passage across blunt flats of rock, I sensed my rough-footed intrusion.


Small rivers of water were more forgiving. Ever-growing as the tide reached in. These pools of mirror reflecting passing cloud, a hint of land.



And oh, the trees that topped the scene.


They reached to their sides in a welcoming stance, carrying memories of thrashing wind through whipped branches held asunder.


The trees continued to draw me in, lining the horizon, faces held up smiling to the sea. A reminder of the beauty of facing the sheer aliveness and sureness of a brisk wind with jollity.


There was a lesson here for me seeing the trees stood so confidently, seemingly solitary beings all connected underground in shared strength, stories, sustenance.


I stopped in wonder at a tree who calls me whenever I venture to Silverdale. A courageous little soul guarding a private woodland. One who stands on a mound off the bay. 


Such presence with this tree, baring its soul, offering a flat slender trunk of bare branches for all to see.


I felt a call to rest on the rocks on the way back to the village. I had my tripod, 'why not grab a few self-portraits?' I thought.


Looking at the back of the camera brought inspiration to try something. An intention formed to seek to convey the oneness of being in nature in this rich and fruitful place.


I felt attuned with tree, land and sea. My motions embodied nature, moving and posturing along with the trees.


This notion of being at one with nature, of crafting images of a multi-sensory being, is something to be explored in adventures to come.


Notes

The first image includes 4 of the photos from the gallery of self-portraits at the bottom, combined using Photoshop.

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