23 Oct 2014

coastal grunge

My mum moved to the coast this past year and over the summer I spent quite a lot of time there. This was mostly so I could go for long picturesque walks and pretend to be the protagonist of a low-budget independent film that will see me Come Of Age. Clifftops and stone beaches like the ones near my mum's are perfect for this because of the unavoidably symbolic nature of water. My malcontent is as vast and unfathomable as the ocean, is what it seems to say.



 


St. Cyrus








The St. Cyrus nature reserve is the kind of place where you can imagine yourself falling into quicksand if you stray too far from the path. The beach there goes for miles and walking along it on the kind of bleak day we did you get the slightly disorienting feeling that you might be trapped in one of those dreams where you walk and walk but don't go anywhere. Which is at least slightly better than those dreams where you're trying to run but can't lift up your feet, although I suppose the quicksand would have that effect.

(I am aware that my preoccupation with quicksand might be a bit excessive given that I have never ever encountered it in my life. I've always blamed this on the devastating scene in which Atreyu's horse drowns in The Never-Ending Story, but looking this up just now it turns out it didn't even involve any quicksand. Artax drowns in the Swamp of Sadness. So now I think I might have been confusing it with the Fire Swamp lightning sand scene in The Princess Bride. But the important thing is that, thanks to this little stroll down memory lane, I now know that there's a youtube user out there diligently collecting film scenes that involve quicksand and uploading them to the internet. Long may they continue this vital work.)




In amongst the dunes there are all these little abandoned houses. With no obvious vehicular access to them, you wonder why they were ever built in the first place, and who would choose to live there.

No comments:

Post a Comment