But the weather gods were kind again and I had three remarkable days at Union Bay. My friends’ sculpture gallery (See two posts ago) is opposite the boat launch and close to what is known locally as the coal hills. These are rolling hills built of slag and clinker on which very little can survive. They are the result of coke ovens and the shipping of this material off the island by train. Nothing remains of the railway or jetty except a few rotten pilings and some rusted bits of metal.
Because of the coal, the beaches are black.
There was a degree or two of frost. I am always amazed that the frost would be present so close to the sea.
There are pieces of driftwood
And then there is the sunrise….
Mt Arrowsmith turns pink.
The light catches distant houses…
A fishboat hangs in the mist
And finally the sun bursts over the horizon.