Wild in Anglia: A new series by Nigel Pickover, who explores in words and pictures some of the very special places in our region. This time: the atmospheric Shingle Street, on the Suffolk coast.

I've always been drawn to wild places. From early boyhood when I caught bullheads in the streams of the Trough of Bowland, Lancashire, to today in East Anglia, I have unearthed deep comfort on our country's mountains, riverbanks and seashores.

These are the locations where you feel so free, so spellbindingly alive, you can imagine yourself as owner of what your eyes survey. Yet in almost a quarter of a century in East Anglia, I've often heard it said that our home area doesn't have any really 'wild' areas.

My new column, Wild in Anglia, will disprove that theory, spotlighting our lonely and sometimes desolate Norfolk and Suffolk places - I hope one day you can get out to enjoy them as much as I do.

When the North Sea rages, when the wind howls and frothing waves growl, East Anglia has some of Britain's wildest coastline.

In its fiercest form the exploding sea can move giant concrete slabs, topple cliffs and the houses on top of them, wrecking property and lives.

I thought of stormy days and nights when I reached the East Coast at one of its most lonely and intriguing locations, Shingle Street in Suffolk.

Charles Dickens, in David Copperfield, wrote of a stormy East Anglian night which claimed the lives of two of his hero's friends in a shipwreck.

The rambling house standing alone on the shingle bank at Shingle Street reminded of the book and I wondered how the owners cope when the sea roughs up and pays a visit.

My autumn day visit saw the steel-grey clouds of morning yield to a still-powerful sun by noon.

A handful of cars were in line at the informal parking spot a pebble's throw away from the line of houses which marks official 'Shingle Street.'

No street, but plenty of shingle upon which the homes sit.

The hamlet is a perched block of former fishing community homes which seem permanently locked together for warmth.

Labrador Saracen was my companion on this trip - after a short walk on the lead and as the bird nesting season had passed, he was soon free to wander.

And so was I, over the shifting stones to the water's edge where hard sand made it easier to walk. Beloved boy, ran, swam, wagged tail and took to the water again. But never walked.

As we headed north by north east, the shingle spit of Orford Ness and the mouth of the River Alde came into focus.

I hadn't seen a soul an hour into this adventure and amongst the muddy pathways and on shoreline I felt immersed in Suffolk's wild side.

A score or more trilling curlew and maybe a dozen soaring skylarks, sending their song of triumph towards the heavens, were the orchestra of the day.

Breeding season in these isolated parts appears to have been a success and I mused that all around were 'plumping' up for the winter ahead.

Orford Ness, run today by the National Trust, and its neighbour Shingle Street, are important wildlife habitats and share some of the secrets of the Second World War.

It was time for a break and Saracen's seasalt-coated lips slurped up fresh water from an empty margarine tub while I enjoyed the view and pondered on events here almost 80 years ago now.

Whilst Orford Ness's history as a military test area is well documented, Shingle Street's wartime role is less well known, allowing rumour and suspicion to gather.

The hamlet was evacuated in 1940 and so there were no civilian observers on hand to log what happened before end of war.

One rumour, repeated and denied in equal order, is that there was an invasion by German seaborne forces - and many troops died.

Burning seas and bodies in the waves might just have been stories - but in the dark world of wartime propaganda they might have been planted to show the enemy that Britain had a mighty presence here.

Onward again - and with no-one in sight, we arrived at an inlet where a little egret was filling itself with sea tiddlers at the rate of one every two beak strikes.

Amongst late-blooming flowers, and with the sun's warmth now nestling on my back, I had thoroughly enjoyed a visit to Suffolk's wild side.

How to get there: A12 to Woodbridge, A1152 via Melton to right turn on to B1083, turning left, signposted to Hollesley, where Shingle Street is signposted. Nearby there are interesting forest and heath locations, criss-crossed by walks.