Studland

We returned to Studland this morning, this time for a more pedestrian roam that yesterday's 9.2 mile speed march from Shell Bay over Ballard Down and back; exhilarating as that was. I love this sandy peninsular, it's deeply layered in memories for me; I remember summer days here as a child, I've walked it's beaches and dunes countless times over the years, had my first psilocybin experience amongst it's dunes, slept in it's dunes, spent years meticulously recording the areas unique Second World War archaeology, and most memorably, the endless happy hours on adventures with my kids. It's beyond a doubt one of our regions most precious gems; you know, it blows me away when I mention Studland or Purbeck to local people, or at least people who've lived here for years, and they either don't know either or have heard of them though never/rarely visit! Today was a perfect winter walk.

Muted day at the bay

A muted day was had amongst the dunes of Studland Bay. That's no slight mind. A mottled sky of grey blue hues, a soft light upon the landscape, and the gentle breeze which made the grasses intermittently dance, all had a subtle beauty of their own.

Dogs life

This morning may have been a meditation for me, although for Geoff it was flipping buzzing. Initially blissfully quiet walking, as we approached Knoll Beach Café the sands and dunes began to become busier. People appeared to move along the beach in waves; a loose cluster of people, a 300 meter gap, another close cluster of people, and another 300 meter gap, and just like waves on the shore many of them reached a point and turned back on themselves. There were so many dogs too, all breeds, all ages and sizes. Geoff was as happy as Larry, if Larry were a dog with a particular fondness for the beach who was enthusiastic about meeting other dogs. With the ferry being out of service for so long, I'd neglected Studland, dropped it from the roster; walking here today I quickly remembered why we used to walk here so frequently.  

Walking meditation

Our perambulation along Studland beach this morning was as much a meditation as a walk; inhaling the clean fresh sea air, and exhaling your troubles, malaise relieved, if only temporarily. To add to the elemental calm, the initial part of our walk saw Studland's broad sandy beach devoid, for the most part, of folk.  Again you're struck by the stark dichotomy between the Isle of Purbeck with it's air of isolation and rugged semi wilderness, and the adjacent Poole/Bournemouth conurbation, an urban sprawl with a population of around 480,000, running well in excess of ten miles east along the coast and extending a considerable distance inland. Two distinct environments separated by Poole Harbour, the second largest natural harbour in the world. Access between these two disparate worlds is facilitated by a short chain ferry journey across the narrow harbour mouth, although when the ferry breaks down, and in recent years it has,  the alternative route is a lengthy, and during the summer frequently frustrating, drive around the harbour. Although, however you get to Studland, once here, you feel a million miles from the rest of the world, with all it's noise and commotion, and that's priceless. As I said, it's a meditation.