looking up in dover
This town holds a special place in my heart. When I first came to England back in the day, I lived in Canterbury - 'The Garden of England' - which is slightly north-west of Dover. It was my first 'getaway' trip ever in the country. Since then, I've been there a total of 4 times, which is quite surprising as each time reminds me how much I loved it the previous time. It's not so far from London, so one would think I'd visit more often.
The town apparently derives it's name from River Dour [if when you pronounce it, you can see how, considering the way languages morph over the centuries]. It has been inhabited since way back in the stone ages. This is no surprise of course as it is the closest point to France and mainland Europe generally, so contrary to what many people may think, it has been the most popular point of immigration for millennia unto the British Isles.
The British Isles, or 'Albion' as it would have been known back then - derived from the Latin 'Albus' meaning 'White'. The White Island, because of the great white cliffs which must have been an incredible sight as they approached from the continent across the Narrow Sea. 'The white cliffs' of Dover is what we're all familiar with now, but I'm quite sure Seven Sisters in Sussex had a lot to do with the name too - but that's for another day, another roll.
It was a nice sunny weekend in early spring of this year that these photos were taken, hence the blue skies and bright light. Normally France, and the Atlantic, send us nothing but clouds. I spent a lot of time looking up, envious of the birds that could see these wonderful things at eye-level, with a birdseye view. I often wonder, while I'm looking up at the bird taking its photo, how is it seeing me? The closest I can get to the answer is this; a selfie looking down at myself from a lofty point.