In Lyme, there is a small estate of mobile homes at Monmouth Beach, which to me has a curious charm all of its own. I am intrigued by the contrasts of a wonderful natural setting and suburban accessories (the barbecue, the new car, the big boat, and lots of fences). Often, a stroll along the beach of an evening reveals the owners sitting in their lounges watching the TV. Behind net curtains, they are apparently unmoved by the sun going down like thunder.
A more charitable correspondent of mine has a much kinder interpretation, which makes me rather ashamed of my own cynicism. He sees “modest trailers that don’t try to compete with an awe inspiring natural setting. So often, you see huge, opulent mansions on the edge of the sea – here a simple structure is enough to accommodate basic requirements of shelter, yet the homeowner has a vast horizon to explore each morning at breakfast…”
In cooler light: