Photography

Continuing North up the main coastal route I reach Amble, a small harbour town with remnants of a bygone flourishing fishing industry. If you’re in the area, I can recommend The Fish Shack for food and drink - it's ideally situated by the harbour front for a good stretch of the legs afterwards, and offers a good repast.

Progressing beyond Amble, the one mile road to Warkworth runs by the scenic River Coquet with a number of parking bays to stop and take in the view. You can often see heron, occasional otters and plenty of other wildlife - if you’re lucky, you may see a flash of kingfisher colour.

In the distance the castle stands proudly on a defensive mound - a testament to endurance - laughing at time and the elements.

Warkworth was strategically founded in the middle of a large loop in the River Coquet, protecting it on three sides. The name derives from an Anglo-Saxon settlement here called Wercewode, which means an “earthwork enclosure” - the enclosure of Werce. 

Both “closure” and “enclosure” share the same root in the Latin claudere, which means to shut. An enclosure marks a boundary, something defined and contained - a reminder that boundaries allow us to protect the value within.

In legal terms, land can be claimed through what is known as "adverse possession". It’s a curious and unusual concept.

I think closure works in much the same way; not something which is conferred by someone else at the end of an experience, but something that forms over time, shaped by how we choose to live with what remains unresolved, something we can give ourselves.

The annual show of daffodils at Warkworth is always stunning. Above is the photo I took in March 2026. 

Two years ago, almost to the day, I stood in the same spot and took much the same photograph. I recall sharing it with colleagues at work. I had just bought my first “big” motorbike and was enjoying movement - it felt good and was the beginning of many solo adventures around the UK. I was still grieving the passing of my dad after his long illness, and also the ending of my previous job after twenty years of service, which came without drama and was quite unexpected, and strangely, without any real sense of closure. I came to realise that closure is something you give yourself, by accepting things and people as they are.

The two years that followed were unpredictable, shaped by past events and the complexities of human behaviour.  Stepping away and building with autonomy is gratifying. 

Some 30,000 motorcycling miles later, the daffodils are no less striking now than they were then, although seen through very different eyes. Life feels good, and peaceful. There is reassurance in this annual heartbeat, a cycle which reminds us that so often, the quiet labour, unseen and uncelebrated beneath the surface, is what matters. Roots and bulbs gather strength below ground, before finally breaking the surface and coming into flower. Just as daffodils return each spring, life flourishes when we let the dead wood of the past fall away, making room for new growth.

I briefly look back - with gratitude - for what is gone and will never be again, what remains and what is new.

I feel the warmth of the Spring sunshine, a smile on my face, leaving Warkworth in the distance behind me, as I ride on.

Some life and career take aways:

Create your own closure.

Don’t wait for others to provide answers or resolutions. Accept what has passed and define your own sense of completion, even when that closure comes only from within.
 

Set and respect boundaries.

Like an enclosure, boundaries protect your energy, focus, and clarity. They are essential in both your personal and professional life, and help to prevent others from consuming you.
 

Expect complexity in human behaviour.

People act in ways that may not make sense or align with your expectations. Understanding that motives and actions are often opaque can reduce frustration and prevent you from taking things personally.
 

Respond, don’t react.

You can’t always change what others do, but you can choose how to respond - protecting your values, energy, and peace of mind.
 

Trust the unseen work.

Quiet reflection, emotional processing, and self care build resilience. They prepare you to navigate challenges more calmly and thoughtfully.
 

Embrace cycles and renewal.

Relationships, like life and careers, have natural rhythms. Some connections end, others evolve, and this cycle allows for growth, learning, and healthier interactions in the future.
 

Keep moving, even without certainty.

Momentum - through action, travel, learning, or self-investment - helps you regain perspective, reminding you that life continues, even amid uncertainty.