Here comes the sun

Photo: Clive Simpson

THE vibrant colour and noise of summer are absent on this visceral, unkind day at the English seaside.

It started with unrequited optimism, a slip of sunshine at dawn which quickly retreated into murky fog and cold, a typically dour and miserly January day enveloped in clinging mist.

There is no wind, just chill, and the grey sea is eerily serene and flat for the time of year, merging without definition into the distant grey shoreline.

We are standing on a narrow, exposed north-facing balcony of the the Rocket House Cafe, an oddly named building whose shape and design is more maritime than space launch pad.

A rusty tractor hauls two small fishing boats off the beach just below us onto a steep jetty. They are safe now, well above the concrete sea wall which snakes away in gritty grey tones behind them.

It carries the eye towards Cromer’s famous seaside pier with its quaint, rusty-roofed theatre in front of a modern, wood constructed lifeboat house which seems to hang on the very edge of the North Sea.

Warmth and light from inside the busy cafe beckon. The chatter is comforting and masks the bleakness of a seaside town in winter, as we hold closely our memories of summer and look forward to sunny days.

Rocket House Cafe

Photo: Clive Simpson

Tractors on the beach

The seaside town of Cromer lies on the UK’s east coast. Perched on the edge of crumbling north Norfolk cliffs, it is famous for tasty crabs, wide open beaches and a traditional Victorian pier complete with theatre and a seaside special variety show.

Its unique geographical location jutting out into the North Sea means that on a blue sky summer’s day you can watch both sunrise and sunset over the ocean.

This does imply, of course, that you are diligent enough to rise exceptionally early and still be wakeful enough at the other end of the day to repose on the pier, perhaps with beer in hand.

There is no quay-side or harbour at Cromer so the fishing boats are gathered on the shingle beach against the sea wall, each with its own tractor and boat trailer.

At the end of the 19th century, the beaches to the east and west of the pier were crowded with fishing boats. Now, you will see only a dozen boats which ply their trade from the east beach.

Crabs - dressed or undressed according to your state of desire - can be bought direct from local fishermen, or enjoyed at local restaurants in salads, tarts and sandwiches.

Today, it is not the crabs themselves that grab our interest but the rusty, salt-laden army of ancient and colourful tractors that line the beach head.

They are adorned and customised with all manner of fixtures and fittings - from plastic deckchairs as replacement seats to makeshift gear sticks and lashed on tarpaulins to keep the worst of the elements out of the workings.

Most look so rusted through with salt it seems a miracle their sand-blasted engines would ever start.

But somehow they defy mechanical odds and, with crabbing boats in tow, continue to chug across the shingle beach to the water’s edge and back.

The photos below are a selection from the Lighthouse Keeper's visit to Cromer on a sunny and warm afternoon a few days ago. All were taken with a Nikon D70 SLR camera.

All photos by Clive Simpson

Early morning birdsong

Lighthouse on the cliff tops of Cromer, Norfolk.                                       Photo: Clive Simpson

Are you sleeping well on these long end of winter nights? If not then part of the answer may be in how dark your bedroom is.

As we travel through winter, with its emerging hint of longer days and promise of spring, it is appropriate to revisit the theme of some previous blog articles about night, darkness and the effect of artificial light on our modern lives.

The other morning I awoke midway through the night at around 3 am to hear birdsong outside. Normally a welcoming sound but at that hour, and with dawn still some four hours away, a little disconcerting. 

Birds singing during the ‘night’ is no longer such an infrequent occurrence. It is a somewhat troubling development and perhaps an indicator of wider factors at play. 

The birds it seems are often duped by our brightly lit streets, on-off ‘security’ lights and other forms of night-time illumination and general light pollution, into thinking daylight has arrived early.

And here’s the thing. All of us, birds included, are hard-wired to sleep in darkness, not in bedrooms full of light, computer monitors, digital alarm clocks or TV stand-by lights.

Chronic exposure to light at night is bad and, to understand why, we need to look into the past. Prior to the end of the Stone Age, humans were largely exposed to just two different kinds of natural light.

During the day we had the sun, while at night we had the moon and the stars, and perhaps the light from campfires. The binary day/night pattern was unrelenting, and our biological programming followed suit.

So why can't you get a good night's sleep? The problem is that many of us probably don't realise what makes us fall asleep in the first place. 

Compared to our ancestors our bodies’ circadian rhythms now also have artificial lighting at night (LAN) to contend with. Indoor lighting may be considerably less powerful than sunlight but it is certainly many orders of magnitude greater than star and moonlight. 

Melatonin suppression is key to understanding much of why LAN is bad for us, particularly in the winter months of the northern hemisphere.

This workhorse biochemical is produced at night when it is dark by the brain's pineal gland  to regulate our sleep-wake cycle. It lowers blood pressure, glucose levels and body temperature — key physiological responses responsible for restful sleep. 

The part of our brain that controls the body’s biological clock is known as the Suprachiasmatic Nucleus (SCN), a group of cells in the hypothalamus which respond to light and dark signals. 

The optic nerves in our eyes sense light and transmit signals to the SCN telling the brain when it is time to wake up, which also kickstarts other processes, like raising body temperature and producing hormones such as cortisol. 

Normally our cortisol levels are relatively low at night - allowing us to sleep - and higher during the day, allowing for the stabilisation of energy levels and the modulation of immune function. 

But LAN unnaturally elevates cortisol levels at night, which can then disrupt sleep and introduce a host of problems relating things like body-fat levels and insulin resistance. It also contributes to sleep debt and can disrupt the regulation of appetite.

If, on the other hand, our rooms are properly dark at night there is no optic signal to the SCN, so our bodies pump out the much needed melatonin. 

Light exposure during the previous day can also affect melatonin levels - studies have shown that exposure to bright room light before bedtime shortens melatonin duration by about 90 minutes compared to dim light exposure. In addition, exposure to room light during usual hours of sleep suppresses melatonin levels by more than 50 percent. 

So, even before you hit the hay, the light in your bedroom may be causing you problems. With the introduction of tablets (not the sleeping kind), smartphones, and energy-efficient LED light bulbs, it's an issue that's only getting worse. 

And just to add insult to injury, many modern LED (light-emitting diode) devices emit blue light which is especially good at suppressing melatonin. This is because melanopsin — a photo-pigment found in specialised cells of the retina involved in the regulation of circadian rhythms — is most sensitive to blue light. 

Regrettably, all this hormone and biochemical disruption is creating downstream effects — and studies are now showing correlations with weight gain problems, the incidence of cancer, depression and adverse effects on the immune system.

Essentially we need to keep our bedrooms as dark as possible and avoid blue light before sleep. 

You might want to think about this next time you leave even the dimmest lights on in your bedroom overnight — including your clock radio and the light that bleeds in through the curtains from nearby street lights. 

Why not try removing electronic equipment from the bedroom and using dimmer lights before before you turn in, as well as refraining from viewing TV, smartphones and computer screens for up to an hour before bed?

And if your bedroom is affected by artificial light from outside (and blackout curtains don’t do the trick) speak to your local council about street light shielding, and maybe your neighbour about realigning any problematic external floodlights.

Oh, and while we’re at it, switch off that bl**dy lighthouse! Sleep well, zzz zzz.

The Lighthouse Keeper is written by Clive Simpson - for more information or to get in touch click here

Coast to coast

THE flatlands of eastern England is its own kind of seascape - but there’s no view of the sea from my study window, just big open skies. As the local crow flies, however, it is only some 10-15 miles to the muddy Wash, the largest estuary system in Britain.

If vast swaths of the Fens — land mostly at or just above sea level — become flooded as sea levels rise through climate change in the future the sea view could one day come to us.

But to other matters. Let me introduce Rosie-dog, a cute Italian Greyhound called Rosie, or various derivatives of the name according to mood, including ‘Rosebud’,‘Buddy’, ‘RD’ and other affectionate unmentionables. She was 14 last week, so is an old lady now. Generally healthy and enjoying the occasional walk but with failing eyesight due to cataracts.

For those of you not familiar with this breed, or never having met an ‘Iggy’, they are the coolest member of the sight hound family but weigh in at a rather diddy size. A bit dropped off your regular racing monster and generally about half the size of a Whippet. But in every other respect they look and behave in the same laid back way.

Not sure that RD would appreciate living alongside or beneath a giant flashing light but if we ever did transfer to a real lighthouse then a candidate might be this one.

This warning outpost is located on the sandy cliffs above the traditional seaside town of Cromer on the North Norfolk coast so it is not exactly remote in terms of lighthouse locations.

Cromer, and its surrounding countryside and beaches, are a long-time favourite haunt for family holidays and weekends away. It lies some 25 miles north east of historic Norwich and much of its charm is that - apart from the necessary trappings of modern life - little has changed since its Victorian heyday.

A welcome addition about four years ago to Cromer’s growing café and restaurant society was ‘The Rocket House’, just down from the town’s iconic pier which still boasts a theatre for summer shows and a lifeboat station on the end.

The Rocket House is so-called because the café, with the Henry Blogg lifeboat museum below, is built on a site that was used during the Second World War to fire warning rockets out over the North Sea.

The food is always great, the coffee the best in Cromer, and the staff friendly. The view across the beach and sea through porthole windows or from the outside balcony is enthralling whatever the weather.

And with a word like ‘rocket’ in its name where could be more appropriate to repose on a sunny Norfolk afternoon?