Living in Flamborough
I have been living in Flamborough for five years now and I love it here. If I had known how much I loved living by the sea I would have moved years ago - having said that I am very grateful I am here now.
Before that I was living in Garwald, a beautiful spot by a river in the middle of nowhere, with red squirrels and hares and cuckoos visiting each year. It was along an unmetalled track about a mile away from Samye Ling Tibetan Buddhist Centre in South West Scotland. I moved there in January 2020, thinking I would see my pals regularly when they were visiting Samye Ling. But then the first lockdown happened and Samye Ling was cut off and my pals were stuck at home.
I was content in the solitude, but after a year or so I realised that I needed to enjoy myself more and to have more fun. So I moved to the coast to be closer to my sister Helen. The rest of my family are in York and as my parents are getting older, it is good to be closer. I also live closer to my daughter Jenny, than I did when I was up in Scotland. One bonus is that I have got to know my nephew Archie and we have fun days out in the school holidays.
After I moved to Flamborough, I found out that my Great-Grandmother, on my mother’s mother’s side, was from here. I traced my family tree and found that I could trace relatives back in Flamborough to 1640. No wonder I felt so much at home. The fields and hedgerows felt like those of my youth and as we stick out into the sea, we have so many migrating birds here, it is wonderful. I love birds.
I was born and brought up in York, but left Yorkshire when I was 18. My mum especially, is a very proud Yorkshire woman and now I live back here I understand why. I have found such friendly neighbours. My ex-husband wryly commented, “Moving to the coast - living the Yorkshire dream”. He is right, many people retire here, to this beautiful edge of the county, where things are slower, the sky is brighter and the air is cleaner.
When I wake up in the morning, after a few slurps of coffee, I head off for a walk with Rosie and Iona. If the tide is out we head over to Danes Dyke Nature Reserve for a walk on the generally deserted beach.
At this time of year, we typically arrive just as the dawn breaks. With the sun hanging low, the world is bathed in a long-shadowed, golden alchemy that feels nothing short of magical.
This morning, the horizon offered a new wonder: a silent gathering of rock stacks. I found myself lingering, caught in the quiet spell of these earthen sculptures, capturing their fleeting artistry. Rosie and Iona, however, did not share my appreciation; they met these strangers with a chorus of skeptical barks, deeply suspicious of these new things on the beach.
The rock stacks were especially beautiful because they were made mainly of the white chalk stones and cobles that scatter the beaches at Flamborough, from the chalk cliffs.
Danes Dyke carries a certain fascination for those of us drawn to the whispers of the past. Likely forged in the Bronze or Iron Age as a grand defensive earthwork, this four-kilometer ribbon of bank and ditch severs the headland from the world, a lingering reminder of ancient people.
The woodland path that traces the dyke down to the sea feels less like a trail and more like a portal; it is a place of deep mystery, carpeted this time of the year with yellow primroses, wild garlic, and the nodding heads of bluebells. Beneath the canopy of ancient trees, the air is thick with the silver threads of birdsong—chiffchaffs, song thrushes, robins and wrens all weaving a vibrant chorus to welcome the rising sun.
Rosia and Iona are 17 months old, doggie teenagers, and typical labradors. They want to say hello to every human they meet, with a tendency to jump up. Iona has a habit of jumping up and licking your nose, without otherwise touching you. Most people don’t like that! They are also keen to be boisterously bounding about with any dogs they meet, which some dogs and most owners also don’t like.
However, on the deserted beach I can relax and wander, let the ladies off the lead and just be with the coming and going of my thoughts and the sound of the wind and the waves. In the back of my mind I hope that the girls don’t eat any of dead crab bits they like to search out on the beach.
After our walk, the ladies have their breakfast and they sleep and I finish my reheated coffee while I do my meditation practice.
A good start to the day!
How do you start your day? How can you make the start to the day a little more enjoyable? Each Monday we will be starting the day with the Beachcomber Monday meditation at 6.45am for 15 minutes. Why not join us? It’s free for anyone to join on Zoom.
Here is the Zoom link: https://us05web.zoom.us/j/89134139442?pwd=PYfPW5tUZlycnWiQHBId0mOCkCUOEL.1
Just click at 6.45am any Monday. For other days of the week you can access the recording here.