An expedition to south of Shipdham, Norfolk, to find the source(s) of the River Yare. A geographical highpoint, endless skies, agricultural and industrial landscapes. Shipdham airfield, fungi, friendly sheep, muddy wet feet, ambiguity, yellow cranes, map wrestling, conversation, green, trickling water, thicket wrestling and elusive glimpses of origin .
A further wandering to locate the moment these sources, now combined, officially become “The Yare” at Thuxton, Norfolk. A church, a station, a bridge, inaccessibility and an arched glimpse of the nascent Yare.
A drizzy darkness of a Monday morning. Colourful leaves pasted to dark wet pavements. Autumn tinged trees, musty smelling air, puddle crackling roads. Noticing mossy cracks, and autumnal foliage as I walk through the familiars of Lakenham.
A late morning stroll, an unknown area. Damp and fuggy. Gleaming wet berries, bright red branches and the distorted reflection of Homebase in Whiting House catch my eye.
Wherryman’s way – circular walk #5 Claxton. A damp, enveloping morning walk. A broad, a river, a church. Enriching, engaged conversation with a group of artists working from the broads as inspiration. Noticing mossy textures, but mostly inside conversation.
Out of season Yarmouth, soft and sunny. A welcome respite after recent, relentless wet. A breeze lifting the sand and moving it in patches across the beach. Cloud shadows flitting across the sand. Soft clear light, an agitated sea. Chips, candy floss and chat.
An early morning North Norfolk coast visit catching an indistinct horizon. Overstrand to Cromer, a sunny calm walk with an invigorating seascape. Mesmorised by proximity of the breaking surf, architectural shapes and shadows.