Sunday 20 March 2011

Pedn-e-Vounder

Bathing Pond, Pedn-e-Vounder
Samuel John Lamorna Birch

This is my favourite beach which is on the last stretch of coastal path before Lands End. You reach it by climbing down a vertiginous cliff path, not for the faint hearted. The sand is white and washed clean by the tide and the shallow water is crystal clear. If you sit still on a hot summers day the fragrance of gorse mingles with the salty sea air. At the end of the afternoon you linger until the last moment, knowing that you have to climb that steep path, but eventually you reach the top with your lungs bursting. And then you shake the sand from your shoes and walk back through the wild fuschias to the car.

The last time I was here was thirty years ago but it will not have changed.

We all have places like Pedn-e-Vounder that we keep locked in our hearts.


*****

Many thanks to Hermes whose blog,
Newlyn and Staithes School of Painters
delights me every morning.

14 comments:

  1. That's my kind of beach.

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  2. Thank you for that image..it was beautiful... but it made me a bit sad.

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  3. It looks delightful but I bet it still has the typically 'Brisk' English weather ;-)

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  4. Salty sea air, watching the waves in the sunshine, bliss.

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  5. How true. Sennen Cove for me.

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  6. Beautiful, the feelings your post and that painting bring.

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  7. It does look lovely. I can feel my legs turning to jelly just thinking about the cliff climb though!

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  8. Very nice and very true

    (mine is Ringstead Bay in Dorset)

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  9. Oh thank you for linking to that blog - what a great find! I have been rummaging on there for ages - cooing at all the pictures.

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  10. It's a beautiful beach, and one of my favourites, However, there's a possible change in the last thirty years.....it is our local natiurist beach, and 95% get their kit off!

    AS you say, the cliff descent is perilous...not for the faint-hearted!

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  11. MrsM blushes as she admits that it was a naturist beach thirty years ago although the proportion of people au naturel was not quite as high and, for the avoidance of doubt, did not include MrsM.

    MrsM can remember the local policeman puffing his way down the cliff path in full uniform and helmet after a complaint had been made. Of course, by the time he got down to the beach everyone had their clothes on.

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  12. Still, my kind of beach.

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