Nature and travel writer Beth Richardson has enjoyed numerous hikes along stretches of the South West Coast Path in Devon but she recently tried something new and now sees the trail in a new light

Pausing on the path to take deep salted breaths, enjoy the coastal chorus and chance encounters with wildlife are my most treasured ways to step out of life’s busy schedule. But recently I took a very different journey on the coast path. Rather than walk, I stayed still and immersed myself in the landscape in a new way – a painting workshop with seascape artist, Ellie Verrecchia. I had never painted before, but the experience unexpectedly brought a refreshed appreciation of the South Devon coastline and an enhanced connection.

Marram grass: 'The blond stems whispering in the breeze' Marram grass: 'The blond stems whispering in the breeze' (Image: Matt Norris / Getty) Ellie lives in the South Hams and, on a few dates each year, hosts art workshops on the coast path close to her home. We met in the beach car park, ready for all weathers. A lucky lull between storms gifted us a dry, bright and blowy morning. Only the pace of the surf hinted at yesterday’s conditions. Our group carried everything needed out onto the cliff path where a dipped parting in the Marram grass became a makeshift art studio. The blond stems whispering in the breeze hushed the roar of queued waves tripping over themselves in the rush to shore. They scattered awkwardly at the Avon’s mouth, much to the delight of kiters and windsurfers skipping over the foamy shallows. Too quick, I imagined, to include in a beginner’s painting despite their tempting streaks of colour.

Sitting down, the bluster filling our ears was silenced in the sheltered gap above the beach. Cheeks smarting in the sudden stillness, Ellie introduced our “studio in a box” she had prepared: a small tray each with a few brushes, a pallet knife, pencil, apron, a square of birchwood and a piece of practice paper. With a mount, we framed the view we wished to focus on - across Bigbury Bay to Burgh Island or down towards Thurlestone, overlooking the rocks protectively sheltering Sedgewell Cove’s southerly edge.

'Sanderlings kept a speedy step ahead of the clawing waterline''Sanderlings kept a speedy step ahead of the clawing waterline' (Image: Neil Bowman / Getty) Ellie generously guided us through her process, step by step. With just a few pencil marks we created a template on paper before applying acrylics to the birchwood. A calm descended on our group as we looked out to sea, quietly absorbing details of the wide-angled view and immense sky. Every time we looked up a new scene emerged, the morphing clouds expanding and shrinking, distorting distances and rolling and turning in chameleonic greys. One second casting translucent light before bolts of azure flashed across the sky, inviting golden beams to gild the rocks and dunes. Below, the sea responded in a rainbow of blue-green hues, muted under cloud then brightening royally as we held our paint brushes up to the view to match the shades. The joys, our group learned, of painting en plein air.

Sanderlings kept a speedy step ahead of the clawing waterline, chasing each wave’s return to the surf and drilling the sand to see what morsels had been delivered. They sprinted across the shore to dodge a meandering dog and its owner. Beachcombing rock pipits took flight, always safely out of reach a few metres away. One landed on the rocks in front of our clearing, hopping between boulders enquiringly with a series of high-pitched shrieks. Perhaps this area of outstanding natural beauty was his territory.

A beachcombing rock pipit landed on the rocks in front of our clearing. A beachcombing rock pipit landed on the rocks in front of our clearing. (Image: Dave Dunn/ Getty) Painting our pictures, I felt momentarily part of the landscape, not just sat within it. I joined Ellie’s workshop to learn something new in a beautiful environment. However, the experience was so much more. Ellie is a great teacher and, concentrating on the characteristics of our surroundings for two and a half hours, I felt more present than I have for a long time.

Ellie collected the jars of seawater we used to dilute our paints and clean our brushes to dispose of at home so no plastics from the acrylics escaped into the environment. We left no trace, only footprints in the sand soon to be dusted over by the next storm, taking only our paintings, a lovely memento of an inspiring and relaxing morning.

Ellie runs workshops in South Devon and also in the Isles of Scilly. Follow her on Instagram for dates and details: @ellieverrecchia_artist.

ellieverrecchia.co.uk