coast

We were down in St Annes for the weekend. While Tom ran the Blackpool half-marathon in a speedy personal best, I spent my time as I like to do on the Fylde coast — pootling about, camera in hand. Not to big up my photographic skills, or anything, but I am quite pleased with the pictures I took this weekend, and particularly like the image at the top of this post. For me, it captures the essence of St Annes: stark light, Lancashire red brick, and a strangely unforgiving landscape, all salt, starr-grass and wind. While taking these pictures, I had a sort of revelatory moment when I realised that the best way to photograph the Fylde was not to photograph it, or rather, not to photograph its more obvious landmarks directly, but to allow them to be (as they are in reality) integral to the landscape, and its bigger picture. On previous occasions when I’ve photographed the Lytham Windmill, for example, I’ve been bothered by the presence of the adjacent car park — which seemed to interfere with the subject of the image I was after. But this weekend I felt just as keen to photograph the car park – – which is, after all, as much a part of Lytham’s visual feel as its windmill. Perhaps this just means that I’ve been to Blackpool, Lytham and St Annes so many times that I’ve finally stopped taking pictures like a tourist. Or perhaps I’m just being over analytical. Either way – I am quite pleased with these photos.

I am intrigued by these iron columns and do not know what their purpose is or was. They stand in a bit of fenced-off waste ground behind the carpark at Fairhaven Lake. Are they remnants of some long-gone bandstand? Functionless pieces of Edwardian civic street furniture? What? Any information gratefully received.