I Must Go Down to the Beach(es) Again…

Holy Isle, early morning

Gini Andrews on a January walk on the beach dunes of Plum Island.

If you’ve ever been there, you will know exactly where this is…

On a bluff above a beach at a Wisconsin lake

Lindisfarne dock at dawn

burr on Lindisfarne

My grandfather took this photo on a Boston beach in 1903; I found the negative among his things. This is an adjusted scan of the inverse.

 

Sheltering in place (from the midges) by a remote Scottish highland loch

Norway beach in late October

Berwick-upon-Tweed (ok, not quite a beach, but the sea is just over the horizon)

Green man gazing out on the Bay of Fundy, near Moncton, New Brunswick


(the title of this post is of course a variant on a famous poem by John Masefield, one recited to me repeatedly throughout my childhood, by a beloved bard for whom it was, far more than a poem, a lifelong calling of the heart)

 

 

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