Jack Scout bore

Jason // January 23 // 6 Comments

To get my week off to a good start I headed out to Jack Scout and walked the headland down to Jenny Brown's Point. Sliding my way along the narrow path muddied by the thaw I mused on how peaceful and quiet it was. Even the waders siren calls appeared muted, as if they too were enjoying a peaceful, quiet awakening to the new day.

The tangerine hues of the sunrise still hung in the sky and coloured the silvery edges of the low tide channels which snaked across the tawny mudflats. I pushed my way through the clifftop Gorse bushes to watch the flocks of waterfowl circling and soaring across the serene landscape.

As I rounded a corner I thought I heard traffic, an oncoming car, a distant helicopter or the roar of the distant M6 caught on a spindrift of the easterly wind. The distant line of ducks broke from their formation and heading to shore. Something was bothering them. The disarming sound that shattered the silence gained pace and was now twinned with a rumble that overwhelmed the bird calls.

Then I spotted it, the white line of the tidal bore bearing down the channel, dislodging all but the most fervent birds in its path. The rumble grew into a roar as the building wave tore the edges of the channel, heaving huge banks of mud into the browning waters.

Two minutes later the wash of this incoming tidal bore crashed onto the rocks below me, spreading left and right, consuming the land and dominating the now rent silence. Waders and waterfowl abandoning the edges, seeking the security of higher ground until the balance of tide and land once again returned.

A newfound respect for the tide arose in me, a reminder of how the lie of the land can change in an instant. A real force to be reckoned with in this wild corner of Morecambe Bay. Below is a simple film caught with my phone of the tidal bore careening down the channel.

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    • Thank you Anne, I’m hoping to have another try with the big camera in a couple of days. It’ll be interesting to see if there’s a repeat.

  • So powerful. I remember being told about the power of tides in certain places. There is a beach in Jersey; which comes in at times faster than a galloping horse. A strong respect for such power is important. Beautiful work.

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    About the Author Jason

    Jason follows his lifelong vocation as a countryside photographer who tries to catch the spirit of the places he visits. After decades working as a professional editorial photographer he now focuses much of his time on conceptual fine art photography, visual storytelling and in aiding others to follow their creative calling.

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