Fabricated Layers

Searching for beauty along the bleak winter coast.

Walking along coastal paths in the depths of winter is an unusual experience. What appeals most to me about this environment is the way it can stimulate all senses, yet shorn of the warmth of the sun, of the call of familiar birds, it can feel isolating. Like attending a concert with the sound turned off.

Yet striding along the Pembrokeshire cliffs in storm force winds immediately after Christmas, a time of such plenty, the starkness of the environment begins to lend its own rewards. It gives up its secrets reluctantly, you have to earn them. And occasionally, persistence and resilience are rewarded with fleeting glimpses of beauty. Colour briefly emerges from stagnant grey, before hiding itself beneath a desolate cloak once more.

The paths, so often choked with people and their dogs in the warmer days of summer, are deserted, save for a few hardy folk who, like me, are trying to find a little solace from the extremes that the festive season can place upon you. Too much food, too much alcohol, too much expectation, too many memories. All are carried away by the fierce winds that permeate my swanky new waterproofs. It swirls in through my sleeves and takes away the parts of me that have lingered too close to the surface for too long, distributing it around the cliffs and through the rockpools, transferring its energy into something more kinetic and alive.

The ocean treats the waterproof credentials of my Goretex shoes with the disdain that it deserves, lapping up over the rims and flooding my feet with saltwater. I sit on rocks and remove saturated merino wool socks with a smile. The environment is stripping away fabricated layers and as I look out at the sea with bare feet, these layers are replaced with a feeling of contentment and connection.

I walk into a remote pub and am treated as a returning friend. The pretensions that we attach to career and aspirations are gone as farmers talk to fishermen who talk to landowners and businessmen. More layers stripped away in this most forgiving of unforgiving environments.

I sit here now, at the start of the first full week of the new year, and reflect fondly on that experience of removal. Of effort and persistence being rewarded. Of having to work to see the beauty that is offered to me, and for holding that beauty even more tenderly than I would if it were abundant. And as people make resolutions based on goals, based on attainment, of accruing more things, it served as a timely reminder that sometimes, you have to let go. To lose in order to gain and to make the most of everyday beauty that can so often be fleeting, but all the more special for it. And as resolutions go, that seems like a pretty good one to me.

Happy New Year, everyone.