Sunset At Mudeford Quay
The drive from Mudeford out onto the quay is amazing. From a congested junction surrounded by houses, the view suddenly opens out over the harbour. Its all sky and water, birds and boats, windsurfers and mud; then there’s that sunset. I know its a local cliche but you have to say its pretty amazing. Sunset at Mudeford Quay is so cliched I wouldn’t dream of taking a photo!
You can park your car facing west into the green park and look straight towards the sun. I am surprised at just how many people do this on a regular basis; they sit there and wait for a certain level of pinkness in the sky. Then, they all exit the car and saunter towards the waters edge as if mesmerized. For a fraction of a second, they look like zombies answering the call.
Further on, the view south is similarly amazing, but such a contrast to that pink glow over the harbour. Initially, the chalk cliffs on the Isle of Wight glow white, then pink, and then the cliffs and sea turn grey and dull. Nobody takes pictures over there; not at sunset, anyway. Moving right, the channel called the Run rushes through, the link between the harbour and bay; pink and grey. Then you approach the quay buildings, the pink now behind them, and further on, the dinghy park. The photographer is given a mass of opportunities, yet for mere minutes. The amazing importance of this place in prehistory rarely comes to mind.
The colours are astounding across the water of the harbour, constantly blending from one to another. Dark rushes in and the world becomes another place. Perhaps only then is the peace apparent, the birds wheeling in the sky and the masts clattering and yet not discordant. In my forthcoming book, My Pagan Ancestor Zuri, she was a child of nature, living here. But for me, the troubles of Syria and Afganistan flood in and I feel so lucky, and calm; I would love to know what Zuri felt at sunset in 2200 BC.