Changing Times, Different Moods
It definitely didn’t used to be like this, not when we were kids. Growing up in the Midlands – Michaela in the West Midlands and me in Derbyshire – it was cold by now and it had been so for weeks. October got progressively colder, frosts a regular morning feature, whitened cobwebs draped like lace across rockery plants and garden shrubs, the walk to school taking place with the protection of coats, hats, scarves, gloves.
Hallowe’en was a non-event, just another night in the build up to Guy Fawkes Night aka Bonfire Night, but by the time we were standing back and watching the pyrotechnics light up the night sky, we’d got well used to being cold. We shivered as we watched the fun, stood close to the bonfire as we warmed up with baked potatoes and bonfire “tuffy”, maybe a cup of Bovril. Our breath formed clouds as we exhaled, our toes threatened chilblains. Ice would be already forming patterns on the windows by the time we returned indoors.
It’s just not like that any more. There’s no October frost this year, not by a mile. As we walk the coastal path today, the wind is howling, the white surf of the Atlantic is pounding the rocks as it has done since ever, yet we’re in T shirts – even the wind is warm. It’s hard to believe it’s winter, impossible to compare the feel of today with those childhood memories of harsh winters which were already well underway by now.
An Atlantic wind on the coastal path of North Cornwall should surely be biting, our lips chapping in its harsh cold, our necks buried deep beneath collars, our heads bowed against its icy blast. On this penultimate day of October, we are instead in T shirts, striding forward along the trail occasionally even feeling the warmth of the sun on our backs. How things have changed over the years.
And today brings a rewarding cross section of the moods of the Atlantic. An early morning overdose of driving Cornish rain which for a while has us considering changing our plans leaves the ocean grey and morose, sulkily slugging into shore out of habit rather than passion.
Then, as we climb above Harlyn the surf starts to cast shining white lines across the turning tide, wetsuit-clad bodies cart heavy looking boards across the sand to bob on the waves in order to wait for the big one, the sky brightens and the mood of the mighty Atlantic starts to shift, as if the ocean itself would choose flow over ebb, any time.
Soon the water is a beautiful blue, mirroring the sun bleached sky, the Atlantic shaking off its morose lethargy. The whole mood is lifted. Now this wonderful ocean is playful, tossing white surf above its blue depths, calling the adventurous and the brave to join in the fun. Those wetsuited figures are at one with its mood, catching the crests as they speed gracefully towards the sand.
But, you know, today is changeable in that particularly Cornish way, and this untameable ocean is not done yet. Within minutes storm clouds gather towards the horizon, the winds strengthen, white horses appear and dance across what is now a body of jade rather than blue. It’s no longer saying come in, it’s saying, come in if you dare.
And now the surf crashes, now the spume flies, now the ocean has really taken control. A few lingering larks take to the air, a peregrine falcon rides the wind at speed, gulls laugh out loud as they spread their wings and hurtle past the cliff, goading those of us who can only walk and not fly. The Atlantic has gone from morose to fun loving to dangerous in the time it’s taken us to walk from Harlyn to Stepper Point.
The clouds threaten but the squalls stay out at sea and, more by luck than judgement, we stay dry. Just past Stepper, the rains are so close that a rainbow forms right before us, just away from the cliff, willing us to climb down to find that pot of gold which must surely be just down there, just below the path.
And yet through all of these changing Atlantic moods it is never cold, at no point does this feel like winter. Out of the wind, the sun is still warm. The wind itself, even at its most demanding, still doesn’t bring grief.
Suddenly leeside beyond Stepper, we drop out of the wind and into the warmth of the sunshine, down into Hawkers Cove where, protected by the cliff, we can really feel the unseasonable warmth. The tide rolls in and once again hides the Doom Bar beneath its swirling depths. Along the path through the dunes we are soon into the shelter of Padstow harbour, moreover the welcoming shelter of the Shipwrights, 11 miles of hiking behind us and a pint or two of Tribute well earned. Within just a few minutes indoors our faces are glowing.
Back home some time later, tanned faces look back at us from the bathroom mirror, tanned by sun and buffed by wind, like polished wood.
Tanned, and buffed, on October 30th? No, it didn’t used to be like this.
25 Comments
Mike and Kellye Hefner
Beautiful words and beautiful pictures – love the rainbows. We are finding less and less winter too, which doesn’t bother us much.
Phil & Michaela
Thank you! It’s a strange feeling though to compare this with our childhood memories
Monkey's Tale
Well I’m not in Canada right now but I heard that they already have snow! Even with the warm weather hope have a.Happy Halloween or Guy Fawkes Day! Maggie
Phil & Michaela
I don’t think we’ll be seeing snow here any time soon!
Andrew Petcher
It was always cold on bonfire night but now we now don’t even have bonfire night, subsumed by dreadful Halloween. Climate change perhaps? We are still in shorts and Tee shirts in Grimsby for sure.
Great pictures as usual.
Phil & Michaela
Thank you Andrew…I don’t think any of us old school English have taken to this Halloween thing.
Andrew Petcher
Penny for the Guy was our thing.
Phil & Michaela
It was
Linda K
Gorgeous photos of an October day to remember! The coastline and the surf with the background of that blue sky make for stunning photos. Fall days with the sun shining are really the best days of the year. We had an unseasonably warm October as well and were in t’shirts up until a week ago. Perhaps our winters will start to get shorter but pack more of a punch while they are here. I’ll take it 🙂
Phil & Michaela
Well as you will have read from the text, it wasn’t sunshine all day – Michaela timed her photos well! Trouble is, our winters are just becoming wet and miserable.
Linda K
You did a great job though of highlighting the sunny parts of the day 🙂
wetanddustyroads
Lovely picture of Harlyn Bay. That’s the beautiful thing about the ocean – it’s always changing and the scenery is never the same (although it’s the same ocean you see over and over again). It seems you can the stay right there in Cornwall for a sunny winter 😉.
Phil & Michaela
Or alternatively……ha ha you can guess the rest of that sentence…
Heyjude
Lovely photos and beautiful prose there Phil, though I have to point out that it is still autumn, not winter. If you had been in my house yesterday evening you’d have thought all the ghosts and ghoolies in the world were trying to break in. Such strong winds, you would have been blown right off that cliff!
Phil & Michaela
Thank you Jude. Yep we had the same here in Padstow, the house sounding like a creaking pirate ship and the wind like rumbling thunder! Today we walked from Rock to Polzeath & back and on the return journey hit the teeth of the gale AND the hailstones. Well, that was an experience!
Heyjude
Yes, nothing like hailstones down the back of the neck – I got caught out today too!
grandmisadventures
A very poetic description of such a beautiful day with incredible views 🙂
Phil & Michaela
Thank you Meg – yes this is a part of the world which is pretty inspiring.
Christie
Indeed the weather has changed a lot in the past decades, but glad you had a wonderful day at the seaside! It is mesmerizing to watch the playful ocean🙂
WanderingCanadians
It is hard to believe how much the weather has changed over the past few years. We’re enjoying unseasonably warm temperatures as well this fall. You might as well take advantage of the nice weather and go for a hike! Harlyn Bay looks stunning.
leightontravels
Enjoyed this intimate walk with its wonderful views. The shot of you striding through the cabbage field is a winner. I love the way the rainbow seems almost tethered to the wooden post. In some ways it must feel lovely to have such weather in October. But then, wait, oh no….
Amanda
Hmm. The climate is changing isn’t it. It must see highly unusual for you, who experience the four distinct seasons. Worrying for many, but do the farmers experience a longer growing season because of this? Those cabbage fields did look healthy. Something we notice here is yes, it is definitely warmer and wetter atm, but the wind is more intense than it ever has been before. To me, nature is unsettled! I loved reading this poetic poet and can relate to the impressions of the oceans when the clouds and rain come in. The whole look and atmosphere of the water and the shoreline changes. I especially liked what you wrote here: the ocean grey and morose, sulkily slugging into shore out of habit rather than passion.
Phil & Michaela
Thank you Amanda. The four seasons are blurring, that’s for sure. We had bumper fruit crops this year but I think crop growing suffered from damaging winds and an exceptionally dry summer. But I think probably the most perceptible change is the increasingly wet and mild winters.
rkrontheroad
What a beautiful place you live in! I could almost hear the ocean surf roar as you climbed around the rocks. Lovely descriptions of the day. We are experiencing the same later winter onset here in the Rocky Mountains of the U.S. Just a light dusting of snow this morning but the sun is pushing through. In past years, we’d be shoveling snow by now. Enjoy those exceptionally warm days while you can.
Phil & Michaela
Thank you Ruth – yes it’s still very mild, well above the norm, but is apparently reverting to normal later this week