Back in June, on a day when the sun was trying to burst through a hoop of tracing paper we went to Dungeness.
Dungeness, the only place in England designated a "desert". At the far south eastern tip where the land flattens and the horizon multiplies. Other worldly, weather beaten, shingle beach with rusting shacks, railway carriages and fishing boats. Home to, amongst other things, a nuclear power station, 5 lighthouses at one time or another and over 600 plant species. It is a very special place with a unique atmosphere, I am struggling to define. Perhaps it is the power station quietly throbbing in the distance. Perhaps it's the proximity of Romney Marsh, ethereal green flatlands ~ threaded with waterways cloaked in sea mists. Dickens' location for Pip's first encounter with Magwitch.. Perhaps it's the alien nature of the landscape, the crunch of shingle underfoot. Shingle peppered with plants, clumps and carpets of colour, unexpectedly beautiful. The colours of Dungeness are thrilling set, as they are, against the neutral shingle~sea~sky horizontals.
You are wondering?
Well first of all I have been economic with information as it wasn't simply the usual tribe of me, Mr. Lane and Boodle on this expedition. For this outing we were joined by none other than my faraway brother! All the way from Melbourne via Finland! I can't suppress a smile even as I write this three months later, so great the pleasure to be together again for a few snatched days.
And yes OF COURSE WE DID...
...visit Prospect Cottage. The much feted home and garden of the late, great film director Derek Jarman. We have been several times before and its allure never fades. A garden bursting through the shingle, beds, such as they are defined by pebble borders, flotsam and jetsam sculptures. Rusted boat jumble with garlands of old rubber washers...
I can't tell you how lovely it all was.
Fish & Chips out of newspaper on the beach and just to be...
...with my best boys...
~~~
Looking through the pictures again is as fortifying as a whole bowlful of favourite pudding (possibly warm raspberry bakewell tart) with lashings of cream and seconds...memories for dessert.
~x~