Singing Sands

After a fairly mixed week of weather, yesterday was decidedly promising with blue skies and sunshine. So, after a hastily prepared picnic, we headed off to do a walk to a beach called the Singing Sands.

We stepped out of the car and tried to ignore the rather icy blast of wind - home is very sheltered from most wind directions and it can easily lull you into a false sense of security - it's quite windy over here I declared - stating the obvious as usual.

Undeterred we headed off, the first part of the walk hugs the bay and is quite exposed (cold), but once we headed into the trees we were out of the wind (warm and springlike).

We cut the path a bit and crossed by the ford - the burn was quite fast flowing and we had to watch not to loose our footing. I speak from experience as I had done something similar on a walk one winter and ended up dripping wet and freezing - saved only from exposure by my brother-in-law's foresight in having brought spare clothing. We stopped to watch a Sea Eagle soaring high above us.

The sun was shining which was lovely and it was casting long shadows. I love the way I look like I am wearing a traditional Dutch costume!

We headed into the trees and a scent of pine was in the air. Although the path never wanders very far from the shore, when you are in among the trees you feel like you have entered another world. You can hear signs of life, but it always seems like it is just out of sight, forever hidden among the dense greenery.

We took an old path, an off shoot, from the main one. It was pretty wet - thank you wellingtons - and at times difficult to follow, but it cuts a chunk off the distance and places you nicely between the line of beaches on this part of the coast. You can hear the sea for ages before you clear the trees and actually see it. Bright blue skies and white horses on the waves and not a footprint on the sand.

We found a sheltered spot among the rocks and had our picnic. One of the coves had lots of seaweed washed up and an assortment of what can only be described as Tribbles - we couldn't decided whether they had been washed up or had been formed by the action of the wind  - like tumbleweed - on this particular beach. This one looked almost like a bird's nest.

It is such a special place - I first came here about 26 years ago and I still get the same thrill now when I'm on the beach as I did back then.

There are lots of dunes on the furthest beach. It was used to train troops for the Normandy landings during the Second World War. It's hard to imagine now, but the rusted remnants of shrapnel tell otherwise. You could see the layers of sand building up.

The wind was whipping up the sand - it really does sing when you scuff your feet along it.

A perfectly lovely walk, a perfectly lovely day.