Just 5 or 6 miles north of the mouth of the Teign is the small resort of Dawlish. Despite its long history dating back to Saxon times, it is essentially Victorian in most of its architecture and general ambience. Its stamp of individuality is created by two features: the rivulet, Dawlish Water (sometimes called The Brook), which runs through the central park area and effectively bisects the town; and the railway line which separates the town from the beach.
The rivulet has become a sanctuary for a range of water fowl, but is particularly noted for its black swans which were introduced from Western Australia.
The railway line is part of the Riviera Line, linking Exeter with Paignton and the English Riviera. The route’s proximity to the sea has earned it a reputation as one of the most picturesque rail journeys in the UK. The line is also one of the most costly to maintain because of the constant threat from sea erosion. In 1974 a substantial part of Dawlish station was washed away during a severe storm. The construction of the line was begun by Isambard Kingdom Brunel in 1830.
In the first photo holiday makers are walking along the path on top of the sea wall. The metal fence beside the path screens the rail track. Beyond the railway can be seen buildings of the Victorian period.
As with the previous selection it will be helpful to click the images for greater detail.
Filed under Colour, grasses, Nature, Pattern, photography, Sand, Sea, Shore, Sunlight, Texture, Uncategorized, Water
Recently my wife and I spent a few days holidaying in South Devon. By sheer good fortune we were delighted to discover that our hotel room looked out across the estuary of the River Teign – a location that attracts a wide range of wading birds. It was a photographer’s paradise. The down side was that most of the bird activity took place in the centre of the estuary at a distance of not less than 150 yards from my vantage point and I was equipped only with a Panasonic compact. In addition, at low tide the sea receded completely leaving a glossy morass of mud. The reflected light played havoc with the metering of the camera, often producing results resembling an ice rink or winter landscape. Despite these difficulties (resulting in poor quality images) it was clearly a ‘must take’ situation.
Because of their panoramic nature it will be helpful to click some of the pictures for greater detail.
I am always intrigued by the way birds (especially gulls) turn to face the sun as it begins to set. I can’t identify the smaller birds in the foreground – are they sandpipers, or maybe turnstones?