THE LIGHT, THE STARS, THE SKY, AND THE DEEP

I happened to look up tonight.

“So that’s what the stars are supposed to look like,” I said, quietly.

The air was warm but the sky clear. Above the lampless streets and rooftops, the canvas of deep black was studded with layer upon layer of jewels, each glistening with light - starlight, twinkling like a carpet of breathtaking diamonds. It was stunning. 

There was the Great Bear, Ursa Major, brighter and richer than ever I’d seen him, and Orion with his shoulders, belt and sword! And so much more, as though these usually dim collections had suddenly been joined by a background of angels who lit up the sky like a glistening chorus line.

It was a lustrous end to a deliciously attractive day. Somehow the light here has been perfect for photography today, and by the sea at Southwold, Sammy and I had been marvelling at the photographs we’d been able to take! Crisp blue sky, green sea and white waves; the wood of the pier lit gold by the autumn sun, tiny stones in wet sand casting long, dark shadows - we’d had a great time in the light. Now the dark was showing off too.

“You’re a great photographer,” she said, kindly, looking over my shoulder. I told her that the light was doing all the work. She said it’s ‘still about what you choose to photograph’. That being said, her own shots under the pier were a masterclass of light and shade; I still think I got a bit lucky with the camera.

View from the end of Southwold Pier

We walked along the pier for a bit. I love a pier: it’s as though the Victorians loved walking around looking fancy so much that they decided on new ways to promenade at the seaside when they’d run out of room along the esplanade. Southwold Pier is a fine example of a short but grand ‘prom’ that sticks out casually into the North Sea.

And what a sea! It was bright but wild today, untameable and raucous. The green waves blustered in, the foam sprayed under the wood and the tide rolled into Southwold under a warm silver sun. We strolled, arm in arm.

I don’t think other countries do piers, do they? I mean in America, they moor boats off them and they’re like grand jetties, but I’ve never heard of anyone putting a theatre on the end of one! No? They were everywhere in the 1900s - you barely had a seaside resort without one. Penny arcades, dance halls, wobbly mirrors, candyfloss (cotton candy) and ice cream! It was a genius piece of social and civil engineering, if you ask me.

We did have an ice cream today. I had strawberries and cream and the lady went for a mango sorbet. We sat and ate them in the afternoon sun, wind blowing around us, bright sunlight, coats on and fully wrapped around us. British. Lovely. Deliciously attractive.

I’m quite sure I saw the Milky Way tonight. A patch of stars, a smooth line of faint but compact, cloud-like light stretched across the sky, North to South. In the town, where we live, you simply can’t see that anymore. Out here though, you get the feeling that the light, the stars, the sky and the deep, are all as wonderful and as real as ever they were.