On the Edge of X

In mathematics the letter X denotes an unknown quantity.  In nature this X is also a bit unknown as it  is in a place that is neither sea or land, the salt marsh.  Continually changing it is a rich salt tolerant biology feeds birds, mammals and amphibians.

But what have I noticed here, footsteps in the mud

Sheep crossing? The sheep like to munch on the saltmarsh although this little group with two keeping a wary eye on me are on the embankment. (Their compatriots can just be seen near the horizon).     Also just seen in the distance further down the embankment is a place to take your ease.

The seat, now with the tide covering the salt marsh behind it. Unusually for the UK where you can nearly guarantee wherever you stop on the coast there will be someone gazing out to sea whatever the weather, this seat faces in the entirely different direction.  Either because of the contrariness of the local settlement of Millom (its name of Norse origin means 'between' as it sits between two rivers and the tide)

Black Combe

or perhaps the view of the hills is thought to be more restful. The Millom Embankment was built to protects both this low lying farmland

and the railway that wends its way up the coast.  Northern Rail paint some of their trains with views from the north of England, the area they cover.   I'm a bit too far away for this to be very detailed. The embankment where I stand is also part of a long distance walk, the Cumbria Coastal Way.  The train is the ideal alternative way to do it in chunks as linear walks (except at its very northern end when the train track bends away).

The perfect journey for sea lovers. The water laps the embankment. If you have noticed the difference in colour  of the sea grass, the first three photographs were taken in February, the others last November when rain had nourished the grass. This winter and late spring was one of attrition for the wildlife so on the February walk there were a few remains but this one took my eye:

Did the duck fall from the sky or did it become entangled in the hedge?  It was a sad sight but although dead at least in winter there were no flies buzzing around and only the effects of xeransis (the drying of tissues).

An entry to ABC Wednesday - a journeys through the alphabet that has reached X