Mudflats and meditating may not seem closely related. But mindful that I have fallen into the theme of low tides for this week I thought I would share again the mudflat that was close to my home in Cornwall for many years. I have photographed this mud many times. I have never physically experienced it between my toes. But I do know and love the feeling of soft warm mud between my toes. So much so, that often at the end of yoga sessions when I am mentally sinking into my yoga mat, I imagine sinking into the soft silt of low tide in and near the Thames Estuary near where I grew up.

Hardly most peoples choice of paradise but I know the texture of Essex’s coastal mud so much more intimately than other swankier muds that I may have experienced.

I never thought to photograph Essex mud so Tamar Valley mud illustrates this whole mud hagiography.

The fantasy remains perfectly orchestrated in my head even though I know sharp objects and slippery creatures lurk just below the surface. Beauty treatments involving mud are also a personal weakness.Mud and adobe houses, sweat lodges, wattle and daub dwellings. Mississippi Mud Pie.I’ve even painted landscapes using local to the area mud. On one remote occasion in an American National Park I attracted an audience of sixty or so excited tourists as I painted in the many shades of red dirt that could be found close to hand.

But on a Wednesday morning all the muds I have ever loved fill my mind at the end of a yoga session.