Port Eynon
In 1981, my late father decided that it was the right time to retire and took a redundancy package enabling him to finish working for what was then called the British Steel Company.
Being someone who had worked all his life after being demobbed at the end of the war he couldn't just retire peacefully, and ended up working for an old friend who owned a caravan site in a pretty little village on the Gower Peninsula called Port Eynon.
For anyone who hasn't been there it really is an idyllic spot with a vast, golden sandy beach. It's a very popular holiday destination for people from all over.
His work meant living in a caravan on the site so he bought one - a large static one - and both he and my mum moved out to live there for most of the year leaving me, at 17, to rattle around their house.
My mother fell in love with the place. A love that remained I'm sure until her dying day. In fact the summer before she died I took her back there and although her memory had by now been almost completely erased I swear she raised a smile when we crested the hill and saw the sea stretching out before us.
At least I like to think that's what happened.
So after my mum died earlier this year I decided to make an early morning pilgrimage to Port Eynon to photograph a famous local landmark there: the salt house.
I needed to get there before dawn to catch the best of the light so a very early start to the day was necessary to get the picture I wanted. I was the only person on the whole bay that morning and it gave me time to reflect on the happy times my parents spent at Port Eynon and the smile I'm sure I saw on mum's face that day back in the summer.
Being someone who had worked all his life after being demobbed at the end of the war he couldn't just retire peacefully, and ended up working for an old friend who owned a caravan site in a pretty little village on the Gower Peninsula called Port Eynon.
For anyone who hasn't been there it really is an idyllic spot with a vast, golden sandy beach. It's a very popular holiday destination for people from all over.
His work meant living in a caravan on the site so he bought one - a large static one - and both he and my mum moved out to live there for most of the year leaving me, at 17, to rattle around their house.
My mother fell in love with the place. A love that remained I'm sure until her dying day. In fact the summer before she died I took her back there and although her memory had by now been almost completely erased I swear she raised a smile when we crested the hill and saw the sea stretching out before us.
At least I like to think that's what happened.
So after my mum died earlier this year I decided to make an early morning pilgrimage to Port Eynon to photograph a famous local landmark there: the salt house.
I needed to get there before dawn to catch the best of the light so a very early start to the day was necessary to get the picture I wanted. I was the only person on the whole bay that morning and it gave me time to reflect on the happy times my parents spent at Port Eynon and the smile I'm sure I saw on mum's face that day back in the summer.
The Salt House, Port Eynon
What a sweet memory. And great picture!
ReplyDeleteStunning photo Nick. Well worth getting up early for.
ReplyDelete