Just thinking

I didn’t immediately feel like rushing off from the quietness of the abbey. The controversial structures of Sizewell A & B were close by and I fancied a peek at the scene. Armed with a camera I set off along the adjacent grassy dunes (the Visitor Centre being closed) and mulled over the past 72 hours.

What had I discovered?
What had I learned?
What had changed?

On one level I was disappointed that I hadn’t discovered anything monumentally different with which to revolutionise my writing. In part, I felt I’d been too busy listening and talking to allow myself to think. There were some new snippets, tricks and tactics to experiment with soon, but I wasn’t feeling truly inspired.
Still, it had been fun.

And Sizewell; it seemed strangely small. Fresh sea breezes wafted past as I thought about how it may have been at Chernobyl in the moments leading up to those explosive events in 1986. And, despite knowing that a similar incident was unlikely here, I almost felt I should tread a little more carefully, just in case.

Beneath the pure white dome of Sizewell B, a nuclear reactor produces a vast output of energy for the national grid. Yet it looks so insignificant, innocent, innocuous, and incapable of action. Much like my brain I suppose, or anyone’s. Until you find away to tap into what goes on beneath the surface it can appear pretty unimpressive.

I took some pics and left.