Issue 65 - Longshore Drift Part 4
I am always gripped by a sense of melancholy when I visit the creek and its salt marsh.There is something sad about the flat landscape with its insipid colours. It is full of life and yet feels desolate.As I halted on top of the floodbank to absorb the scene, the feeling returned - just for a moment, then I pressed on. I stepped down from the floodbank and through the flotsam left by the last big spring tide, dry twigs and reeds snapping under foot, and then reached the salt marsh with its thick carpet of sea purslane. The purslane was high and tough making it necessary for me to lift my feet high with each stride, like walking over moorland heather but here was not the perfumed smell of heather but the strange mixture of salt and mud that typifies the salt marsh.
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