Back in the smoke since last Thursday, but hoping to make a break and head East again later this week, these photos help me connect to a quieter, slower rhythm.
And oh, those East Anglian skies. They start at waist height and seem to go on for ever.
Living in town, we get used to crowded landscapes; dramatic but limited views. To see the world open up like this is like drawing a long breath.
I shouldn’t want to live there all the time. There is a flip side; car dependency; winds that sweep unchecked across the land; isolation. But as a bolt hole, it suits me well and recharges my batteries.
I spent my undergraduate years in the East. Something stuck. And every journey there is charged with memories, because this is where my parents moved to when they retired. So many journeys to see them. My father’s death, then my mother’s. My initiation to boat ownership, supported by Cat who adapted to this new experience as he adapted to so many others.
My nephews are close by, so there is life as well as death. And always new memories to make.