‘I stood at the edge of the bay, looking out to where cloud shadows fell onto the immeasurable sands, colouring them deep Prussian blue and red ochre. The whole saltmarsh was silent, the kind of silence that hums in the ears, and it spread over the singing blue of a frozen morning. Then a redshank materialised from a channel close by and unfurled itself skywards, casting its singular ticking call into the sky. My cover was blown and the whole marsh knew I was there.’

Opening lines from ‘The Gathering Tide; A Journey around the Edgelands of Morecambe Bay’

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