One of the joys of winter in Blakeney is to wake up early and find the coast path hard and crispy underfoot with frost and ice. This was taken on a walk from Blakeney to Morston and back, when the sun was just beginning to make its presence felt above the silhouette of Blakeney church.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
Still water, just after sunrise in Blakeney, Norfolk. The freshwater marsh takes on a distinctive palette in the winter sunlight – midnight blue water, golden reeds and the soft purples of the cloudscape.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
It is November, right?
What a beautiful, big tide morning to be on the water! Kayaked out from the quay at Blakeney, into the main harbour, and shot this from the old Cooke memorial post at the top of the Cut.
There’s a reason the Norfolk coast is called big sky country. This is a panorama taken from the coast path between Blakeney and Morston a little after sunrise on a late October morning.
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.
It is a wonderful feeling to wake up at the Watch House on Blakeney Point, the smell of the wood fire from the night before lingering in the grate, and looking out at a golden morning in the harbour.
Here are some more photos and stories from our previous trips to the Watch House in 2016, 2015 and 2014.
From our Instagram, @North.Sea.Living.
It was one of those rare days: an icy blue morning tide which rose gently, irresistibly until it lapped against the frost left by the winter’s night.
I woke early and went in search of daybreak. Standing on the deck of the old houseboat at Blakeney Marsh and looking East towards Cley, I could hear the waves rolling on the sea bank and the birds calling to the light. The first glimpse of the Sun’s orange and red disc silhouetted the mechanical arm of a digger, now paused in its work of rebuilding the flood defences.
Two bait diggers were walking back down the harbour channel, just ahead of the incoming tide. I always imagine sunrise to be a quiet time, but instead it is filled with all the excited cries of nature, while most humans remain silently slumbering in bed.
The video was recorded on my phone (a Moto X) and sped up 8x.
