I thought I’d share another “not going to” post this week, and I’ve a feeling it could become a bit of a series, depending on how long we’re in lockdown for and realistically, how long it takes more normal life to resume. So for this post, we’re not going on a coastal path walk, in Devon, where we didn’t go last weekend. If that makes sense.

These are actually photos from our visit to Devon in 2015, but quite honestly the memories seem more recent than that. And despite the photo below it was actually a nice day, and not quite as grim as this photo suggests. Though I think I prefer to describe this as atmospheric, rather than grim.

We’d visited the National Trust’s Colyton Fishacre, which probably has to be one of their strangest named properties, surely? MOH’s aunt volunteers there and it’s one of the places we regularly visit, but it was the first time we nipped out the gate onto the coastal path. Once we’d seen the view, we weren’t sure why.

I’m not a huge fan of walking too close to the edge, and it’s rare that you’ll find me peering over the edge, but with gorgeous bracken edged views like this I’m more than happy with that. Though I remembered if I stood on tiptoes, the yacht came into view.

getting braver and peeking further to the edge

And while the views to the sea were great, it really was the plants that were closer that held my attention.

And given my previous comments about being close to the edge, you can imagine my thoughts about this. Yes I know it’s not on the edge at all, but I could still fall. MOH who’s used to this irrational logic when it comes to heights and edges, just helps me along, and we did make it down the path you can see heading off into the distance.

But I do have my limits, and the were soon to be reached. Rocks like the one covered in lichen are much more preferable than heading closer to the edge.