Mary Anning at Lyme Regis

This bronze statue of palaeontologist Mary Anning strides off towards the cliffs she once explored with great success at Lyme Regis, Dorset.

It was created by sculptor Denise Dutton and unveiled in 2022 on the anniversary of Mary’s birth in Lyme in May 1799.

The story behind the statue is very inspiring. It’s all down to a 11-year-old girl, Evie Swire, who started a campaign, with the help of her mum, for a monument to the 19th century scientist. The campaign highlighted the bias of UK statues of men to women (more than 85% men).

Despite false starts during the COVID-19 pandemic, a crowdfunding campaign was eventually launched. The Mary Anning Rocks group also sold T-shirts to raise money to commission a statue in honour of the scientist, whose discoveries in the Jurassic marine fossil beds at Lyme brought her to international attention and contributed to changes in thinking about prehistoric life and the Earth’s history.

Mary discovered the first correctly identified ichthyosaur skeleton when she was just 12.

The statue was unveiled by Evie and Professor Alice Roberts.

It beautifully captures determined movement. The level of detail is astonishing.

It’s behind the Marine Theatre overlooking Black Ven.

The woman in the window

I went to a wine festival a few years ago in a village in south west France and passed this most wonderful shop front.

The shop itself had been closed for some years – or so it seemed – but the faded, beautiful paint on the doors and fascia led into this most marvellous mural.

A thoughtful, serene woman looked back at me. She sat on a flight of stairs, her bare feet pointing at each other in a comfortable, pigeon-toed pose, arms and hands across her knees.

I don’t know who she was but she had the sort of face you felt you’d known for years. A woman with a calm, kind disposition. A friend. In my head, I named her Estelle.

You could share a glass of wine with Estelle outside a laid-back cafe. You could have a moan about something tricky in your life and then both roar with laughter at the sight of a cowboy-hatted passerby dressed in triple denim in a heatwave, trying hard to swagger but looking more a constipated fool than the epitome of cool.

I’ve thought a lot about that woman in the window ever since. When I revisited the village a few weeks ago for another wine festival, I was looking forward to renewing our acquaintance.

Sadly, the shop front is now completely boarded up. The bat above the door has flitted off and Estelle has been erased forever from her staircase perch overlooking the street.

I didn’t take a photo, it was too sad.

I wanted to remember Estelle as she was when we last met.

That’s about it.

Love, Maddie x