Taken in Blakeney Cut this evening. The sky just seemed to become more and more intense as I took a brief walk with the dog, until it made the mud glow with pinks and orange.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
Taken in Blakeney Cut this evening. The sky just seemed to become more and more intense as I took a brief walk with the dog, until it made the mud glow with pinks and orange.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
The clocks went back at the weekend and suddenly the evening walk with the dog has become the afternoon walk again. The light was golden and soft today, diffused through the soft whisps of the marsh plants. Winter often provides the best sunsets.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
An acquired taste, perhaps, but the glow of sunlight on the wet mud of shallow East Coast harbours is a beautiful thing. If you feel the same and haven’t yet read Maurice Griffith’s The Magic of the Swatchways, you really must.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
The year marches on towards the season of low, heavy skies and the rich, deep red sunsets of winter.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
The sun rises about a quarter past seven at this time of year, emerging from the low hills behind Cley as you look back across the fresh water marsh from Blakeney. If you’re lucky, you see the silhouette of Cley windmill emerging and the swaying reeds bathed in the glowing light.
This was shot as a video over about twenty minutes on a morning dog walk, then edited afterwards to speed it up.
This one happens to be in Morston, part of Blakeney Harbour on the North Norfolk coast.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
Calm days are less frequent at this time of year, but when they arrive, the sky pools in the salt marsh light up with colour and reflection.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
It was one of those magical sunsets yesterday, when the heavy, grey sky suddenly lights up at the last minute. Taken at Morston, on one of the little docks where the sailing boats moor.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.