Ilfracombe

Looking south over the sea from the top of Pwll Du Head, I can make out the reflections of the evening sun on the windows of houses in Ilfracombe some thirty miles away. At this time of year, late evenings overlooking the sea can be magical. The tide’s in, there’s no wind, and it’s flat calm. The sea, patterned with greens and blues, looks like a huge lake, and through binoculars I have a clear view all the way to the Devon coast.

It’s the time of year when seabirds from the Pembrokeshire islands search for food off Gower, and as is usually the case, they’re a good way from the shore this evening.  In groups of ten or twenty at a time, hundreds, maybe thousands, of Manx shearwaters stream westwards towards Skomer and Skokholm. Gannets fish closer in, whilst the local fulmars fly to and fro along the cliffs continually disappearing out of sight for a while under the headland below.

As the sun dips below the horizon, I look south and west to a darkening Lundy Island and it’s lighthouse.  To the south and east the light at Nash Point begins to flash, and another due south, which I must have seen hundreds of time and am still not sure about.

A cool mist forms in the hollows as I make my way back to the car. With clear skies and no wind, there’ll be heavy dew in the morning. Blackbirds scold as they prepare to roost, and robins are the last to go silent before the light fades. Even though it’s dark, there’s still a pale, pastel-blue glow on the western horizon. It’s so good to live by the sea.