Yesterday, I should have been staying at home doing some work, but the sun was shining, and what’s a person to do!
I decided to explore somewhere new but not too far, so I threw my walking boots in the car and headed off to St. Agnes on the north coast. First I negotiated the one-way system in the village, stopped off at a local shop for crisps and chocolate, and then drove to near St. Agnes Head, parked, pulled on several layers of clothing and set off on the South West Coast Path.
The view was stunning, the sea a beautiful greeney-blue, and the path stony but level-ish. I quickly arrived at the intriguingly named Tubby’s Head, and sat for a few moments on a bench, in the seat of which there was fixed a small brass plaque: “June Claydon, Resting in Peace by the Sea, July 1992“. I wondered who June was. I thought of her, maybe sitting on this bench in this same spot, doing pretty much the same as me, gazing out to sea and enjoying the crisp air on her skin. It is wonderful how you can be touched by the life of someone you know nothing about, simply because you occupy the same space, maybe feeling similar things, albeit in a different time.
You may already have noticed a discrepancy between the heading of this post and my reference to the sun in the opening paragraph. Well, by this, paragraph 4, the discrepancy disappears. Yes, from this point it started to drizzle, though it fortunately never became a downpour! Never mind, I continued on to admire the industrial archaeology of the Wheal Coates Tin Mine and Towanroath mine engine house, and then on to join the dog walkers and their happy dogs on Chapel Porth Beach.
After this I turned inland up Chapel Coombe, walking through woods on a muddy path alongside a stream. The sea was forgotten, and I was in a world of trees, farmland and woodland birds until, emerging on to an upward track, I finally reached the top of St. Agnes Beacon. What a view! Wet and cold, but still…The heathland here is an important habitat, looked after by the National Trust. I was a little late in the year for the full heather display, but some Bell Heather was still flowering, its purple contrasting with the vibrant yellow gorse. A bird of prey hovered – what did it see? A vole or mouse (prey)? A pile of stones on top of the hill, meaningless to it? A wet human (not particularly interesting to your average raptor!)?
After this, the weather was getting the better of me, so I headed back to the coast, enjoying the (very distant!) sun shining through breaks in the clouds lighting up the horizon, and then walked along the cliffs and back to my car.
As I drove home, I thought again about June Claydon. I’d like to think that, when my time comes, Cornwall will be enough my home, and enough people will think well of me, that there will be a bench here for me, too.
You can find a similar walk to mine, plus others, at The St. Agnes Forum Website.
And I’d love to hear from anyone who knows who June Claydon was.