The magnitude of those ferocious waves that we witnessed after a lengthy drive to Hornsea, the nearest coastal town from Leeds, was epic; the crescendo Mother Nature knew I needed. A moment of peace as the chunky fat raindrops splattered down upon the sea top before a sudden surging of water from a place that only nature knows. Then, an uprising as the wave in question comes into the air higher than you are prepared for, causing you to stagger back a few paces so as to keep a healthy distance between yourself and tempestuous, unpredictable nature.
Visiting Hornsea on the East Coast one rainy mid-May day, suited and booted in my classic red wellies, paired with a snuggly, black, fur-hooded anorak, my friend and I headed determinedly to the beach. We wanted stroppy seas, soggy sand and fish and chips to quell the tumult.
Never letting the weather dictate our trips, we clasped at our hot coffees, breathed in the roast-bean steam, and bared our souls to one another; discussing why sometimes relationships were just, if not more so, as perilous as the looming dark clouds and unrelenting rain smacking down all around us.
Hornsea brought us snuggly sea viewings, good wholesome conversation and catch-ups between two friends trying to make sense of life and all its foibles, wet sand beneath our feet initiating a trudge-like motion and scoffing fish and chips while the windows wept with precipitation.
We marched along the beach past squiffy marshland and weathered rocks, now hazardous from weather.
This display we came across was a cute little community project, presumably completed during lockdown. I came across something similar in Calverley woods during this peculiar time that the whole world was in detention; little fairy home trails to be found at various nooks within the wood. Communities often get creative during a collectively traumatic experience, trying to make something positive out of a negative.
I fully endorse this, plus it makes for good photography.
Some painted scallop shells were hidden in the trees providing folly and fun.
Which beach doesn’t need a giant seagull?
Seriously though, I always enjoy statues like these as they are bubbly, quirky and perfect selfie posing spots. Any artwork whether it be paintings, street art, architecture or statues help make a place unique and this is why discovering different places is so fun, everywhere has different artwork to offer depending on what that local council/community wants to convey from their place.
Hornsea Art Society host open studio events around their local area; a society of people passionate about drawing and painting. Embracing the artistic culture and creativity of the town and encouraging community projects to delight tourists and inspire the locals.
One of my favourite parts of any day out? Discovering beautiful churches and churchyards. Morbid some might say, but I disagree. Death is a part of life and gravestones, though undeniably making for more grim and macabre travel, are photogenic and make for good photography with their ivy-draped headstones, slanted and toppling, paving way for ancient churches; rustic and dominant.
This one did not disappoint, particularly with the spring flowers in bloom, brightening the dull, cloudy day somewhat.
I will always opt for rainy coastal trips if that is what the weather brings me. If us Brits waited for glorious weather every time we aimed for visiting the coast, we’d only go a handful of times!
xx
