For my ‘spring break’, I decided to head to the south west coast of England: namely, the excitingly branded ‘Jurassic Coast’ in the county of Dorset. I’ve always been fascinated with the geology of the area; and in particular was keen on seeing Durdle Door for the first time – the iconic rock formation which appears to have a door into the ocean.
The drive to Dorset was incredibly picturesque – we drove past seas of sunshine yellow fields of oilseed rape, and past multiple motorway stalls selling local strawberries.
The cool sea breeze, crumbling chalky white cliffs and surprisingly turquoise waters – coupled with twee little villages full of perfectly thatched cottages and good old English pubs – provided the perfect calming antidote to a tough term of university. The weather was the warmest of the year so far, and on one night the moonlight lit up the sea and surrounding cliffs, which truly evoked the feeling of living in a novel!
And finally, a lovely little poem I learned at school by Thomas Hardy, who was born in Dorset:
By Thomas HardyWoman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,Saying that now you are not as you wereWhen you had changed from the one who was all to me,But as at first, when our day was fair.Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,Standing as when I drew near to the townWhere you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,Even to the original air-blue gown!Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessnessTravelling across the wet mead to me here,You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness,Heard no more again far or near?Thus I; faltering forward,Leaves around me falling,Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward,And the woman calling.