Warton Sands

Jason // August 17 // 4 Comments

An early morning ramble over the headland of Jack Scout as the dawn mists disintegrated into the clarified air. Late summer blooms dotted the drying grass stems. Old Manโ€™s Beard draped the freshly berried Hawthorns, unshaven, unkempt, damp with dew.

The ebbing tide clunked and clamoured through the rocky channels, mechanical voices in a preternatural landscape. In the distance the darkly green outline of Warton Crag delineated the many layered middle distances as the sun burst from the clearing clouds. Engoldened, the flats of Warton Sands rippled into life.

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    • Thank you Michelle. I”m doing my best to maintain a daily(ish) writing practice. It helps ensure I get out to find the stories.

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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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