the process of eroding or being eroded by wind, water, or other natural agents.
If you’ve followed here for a while, you’ll probably know that John Muir Country Park is one of our favourite walks. We only discovered this place a few years ago, but even in that timescale we’ve seen changes in this small section of coastline. I should say, we’ve seen changes all the way along the east coast, particularly at Yellowcraig where big sections of the dunes have been washed away, and work has been carried out both at Yellowcraig and at neighbouring North Berwick to prevent further erosion and to rebuild the dunes.
But here, around the bay at John Muir Country Park, it feels more obvious. Here, the woodland meets the beach, and successive storms have gradually gulped their way into the sandy soil, pulling down those trees on the edge. And that edge is always creeping closer. The power of the sea made visible.
The following photos are from the woodland side of the bay, and a walk a few weekends back in early June. We usually take the winding woodland path above, looking down onto the beach, but we decided to walk along the beach instead. From this perspective, you get a different sense of the nature of erosion; of those trees that are standing tall and strong against the wind, but living on the edge.
There’s something about those trees, the strength in their roots, gripping down deep into the soil. Determined. And there’s something sad in the inevitability of the fact that one day, maybe soon, another storm will come. And another, and another. But then such is nature, the push and pull between land and sea.
THE FALLEN TREES FEEL LIKE SKELETONS ON THE BEACH.
STILL GREEN, WITH PINE CONES PEEKING FROM THE BRANCHES, NOW WINDSWEPT ON THE SAND.
John Muir Country Park, East Lothian, Scotland