Walking the Coast Path in May
These walks aren’t the entire Pembrokeshire Coast Path (though I plan to walk that this year in sections) but just snapshots from my morning wanders.
May is probably my favourite time of year on the Pembrokeshire Coast, except for maybe June. This time of year the flowers in full bloom, swathes of bluebell and gorse compliment each other with their bright purple and yellow colours. While small clumps of Sea Thrift (Armeria maritima), Sea Campion (Silene uniflora) and Sheep’s Bit Scabious (Jasione montana) adorn the cliff tops, clinging to the rocks and looking almost like an assortment of gelato with their pastel colours.
This time of year my sleep duration drops. Every sunny day I can’t help but drag myself out of bed with bleary eyes, to walk at first light and see the moon set and sunrise in the quiet of dawn. It is like heaven, wandering the cliff tops in solitude and silence, save for the soft hush of the sea and the occasional lamenting song of the seals far below me on the secret beaches.
In the summer I hate living by the coast. So many tourists flock here and getting from home to work becomes a marathon endurance drive rather than a 15 minuet jaunt. But now I remember why I put up with those stressful summer months.
Right now the headlands are tinged purple from carpets of bluebells. It’s magical to see the haze of colour above the rugged cliffs. In places the purple is softened with stitchwort intermixing to make a soft pastel colour.
I walk before day breaks, the moon shining pale in the sky. Cow Parsley and Plantain in the hedgerows are outlined in a golden glow as the sun begins to rise above the horizon. A rainbow of fire colours the sky.
I would normally say I am a mountain person. I gravitate to mountains and high places (even though I am scared of heights!). There is a wonder in those places, the way they make me feel so small and realise how insignificant I am in the world. I know that may sound negative but I find it quite freeing. My problems are not as bad as they feel when back at the bottom. Mountains really remind me how powerless I am to change things, they remind me to try and live more freely and worry less about what course my life is taking and if I’m making the right decisions or not. Almost like a meditation.
But in May and June I am drawn to the coast. I’m not sure what pulls me but it’s quite a force. Maybe it’s the stillness, maybe the magical colours and wildflowers. Maybe it’s making the most of the quiet before the storm of summer. Whatever it is, I love my visits to the coast. I don’t know if I could live inland now, sitting and looking out into the big expanse of blue is so soothing, watching the calm emptiness, undisturbed by human construction.
The flowers and grasses gently sway in the light sea breeze. And as the sun rises further an orange tint envelops everything in it’s wake. I just breathe, feeling so lucky to be alive and experiencing it all. It’s always a wrench when the time comes to pull myself away and turn back inland, heading home.
