A thought of falling

"In 2016, my mother moved house northwards, leaving behind the landscape of my childhood, and returning to that of her own.
Although I once visited Northumberland, as a child, at that time I had no understanding of the profound natural beauty with which the county is blessed. Great hills to the north, at the border with Scotland, give way to foothills of dense deciduous forest, quiet and old. A largely agricultural centre pushes southwards to urban edge of the City of Newcastle, while to the east, a grey coastline is carved out, ruthlessly hewn by the cold and foreboding North Sea.
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The foot of the sea-cliff under Dunstanburgh Castle – the building itself decaying majestically – is a place of dark beauty. Columns of ash-coloured rock, peppered with green moss and the white of birds, cascade from the ruin to the blue-grey water beneath. Even against the vastness of the sky, the cliffs stand firm – a sheer wall of rock braced against the sea. At dawn through the mist, the cliffs emerge slowly, as if the sun were gradually drawing them upwards, rock by rock."