Swanage beach huts
A very sunny and warm weekend in Swanage brought out the ice-creams, the walkers, the railway enthusiasts and showed off the modern iteration of a traditional architectural style – the beach-hut – at its very best. The bold colours were striking in the brightness, and the glint of highly polished handrails together with the yellow bands as hazard warnings on the steps look really stunning!
Apparently there are about 20,000 beach-huts in the UK, and I grew up in West Mersea, Essex, where they are alive and well and being looked after much better than they used to be in the 1970’s.
For the fourth year running, Ceredigion Art Trail will feature a wide range of artists around the county of Ceredigion.
My photographs will be part of the Art Trail web presence and feature in the Guide, but my studio will not be one of the ‘ Open ‘ ones this year.
Trudi Strang doing the washing
An interesting blast from my past…an early photograph…one featured in Towards The West.…a book just published about an early invasion into Ceredigion.
D J THOMAS A’I FEIBION – road haulier
D J THOMAS A’I FEIBION – road haulier 2
For a decade and more, I have been working with D J Thomas of Llanarth; a road haulage company. Alan and Emyr carried on the business started by their father in the 1950’s, initially hauling livestock for local farmers in the area.
They built the business into quite a significant one in the ensuing years, by working all hours, and moving goods all over the UK and Europe.
Now, they’ve reached ‘ retirement age ‘ , they’ve decided to sell the yard, and the fleet of trucks, and ‘ take it easy ‘. This old MAN was parked up in the corner of the yard, when I went to take some photographs of the buildings, yards, and old and newer trucks before it all moves onto the next owner.
It was suddenly surprisingly cold on a warm day, three hours after sunrise.
Eclipse – Llanybydder, West Wales, 0925
This fine but un-important little brickwork detail is in a garden wall on the Coast Road in West Mersea. I was visiting for a couple of days, as a friend of mine who lived near here, and was an important part of my growing up, recently died. I attended his funeral. It was a warm spring day, and the very small church soon filled up with relatives and local friends. I stood outside and listened to the proceedings that were relayed to the outside world over two small narrow black loudspeakers on precarious three-legged stands.
An amusing episode occurred when the vicar forgot the words to a stanza in one of the hymns, and sung ‘ tum ti tum ti tum ‘ instead. It was much more audible to the outsiders than the insiders, as he was all ‘ miked-up ‘, and his voice came over very clear outside, but was muted by the chorus of mumbling inside.Everyone outside sang along and sniggered, looking around at the other visitors.
I took the brickwork detail for granted when I lived in Mersea in 1966, but now I realise how fine it is. A bit like taking friends for granted when they’re immortal and young, and noticing them later on for their worth. I went back to Wales, resolving to pay attention to the detail.
In the pursuit of hilly climbs, I joined the hundreds of grimpeurs cycling up to the summit on a perfect day. No wind and a view worth making the climb for.