Swan Shore
Langston to Nutbourne
Summertime on the coast. I’m dressed in yoga pants, a t-shirt, fleece and shower jacket. The sky is a heavy gray, wind blowing and the possibility of showers. We will reach a heady 20 degrees. Not surprising this mid-week walk isn’t attracting many people. Most of the other walkers are out with their dogs, not many have chosen today to walk for pleasure.
However, I like to walk alone and don’t mind cloudy days either. This section of the walk is one I have done many times, so I’m not expecting anything new. I’ve chosen low tide for the access to the stony beaches that means I walk in damp seaweed (whether I want to or not).
Langstone millpond is a settlement of swans, ducks and herons. The ducks quack for food and the swans attack shoelaces of walkers on the path. The swans along this part of the coast live in both fresh and salt water. They sleep on muddy tidal banks and somehow keep their freshly-washed whiteness. My swan-memory chooses ugly duckings (goslings?), a god in disguise, and dancing lovers. Swan folklore suggests that there’s a deep exchange between swans and people, and of possible animal alternatives, I think a swan might be a good option.
The coast from Langstone to Emsworth is unbuilt, with the mud flats of Langstone Harbour reaching out greenly towards what little water is left at low tide. Tamarisk trees grow right down to the high tide mark, not minding the salty water that their roots drink.
The walk changes at Emsworth where I follow the sealed footpath around the old mill pond and into the town. There are public toilets, which is a bonus on this journey, but little signage to aid the walker. I attempt to navigate back to the waterfront but it’s at a premium here and the roads come with signage that warns: Private Road, No access, Keep out. Unfortunately, there’s no “Walkers this way,” sign, so I keep trying to find my way back to the harbour.
There are footpath signs around Emsworth Marina but they don’t help much with destinations. I tramp alongside a field and then down a road, and along an overgrown footpath will slippery muddy, puddles, face-high nettles and a wire fence. No wonder it doesn’t get much use.
I emerge by the water at Prinstead, where a selection of empty benches provide a comfortable viewpoint while I eat lunch. The spire of Bosham church is poking between the trees and I set off along the coast again towards it.
This is one of the best parts of today’s walk. the sun is managing to shine between the clouds, there are fields and reedbeds, birds and a few butterflies. The tides have sewn lines of seaweed along the shore. Unfortunately, I can’t continue to Bosham as the coastal path is closed for repairs from storm damage. So, I’m back to the main coast road to get a bus.
Swan, drawn in black biro. Sue Webber 2024
