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back to norfolk

Posted jane -->on 28th Aug 2019

after another early morning walk on West Sands

although it would be warm later in St Andrews

the mist was only just burning off, and there were only one or two runners and not many dog walkers

I thought it would be a kindness to Bims to let her have a run before the long journey home

and a paddle. but it turned out that her adrenalin levels were quite raised, and she was not happy in the car, it took her at least a couple of hours to settle. stress equals adrenalin even when it seems like she’s having a nice time. we of course had air conditioning to insulate us from the 33 degree heat on the drive, but the heat of the following two days has got us in a rhythm of very early walks – straight out of bed on waking and off before seven, even six fifteen yesterday.

our norfolk fields are very beautiful then

the stubbles full of frolicking hares

pink horizons

and sea-wards a lingering mist

those hares got B’s stress levels up again – in fact it takes days for the levels to go right down, and she seems quite over-alert even three days later.

sun on my back and a bit warm already by six forty-five ..

not a creature to be seen along by Bale wood, where the huge field (named the prairie by the neighbour) has had its oilseed rape harvested – however much B hoped to see another hare

the silver-washed fritillaries long gone

and the thistles now beneficial to birds rather than insects.

this morning we are cooler, and slightly damp – what a relief!

but at Bullfer Grove there is devastation

all the non-National Trust part of the wood is being cut for selected timber removal

and a right mess the machines make getting in and out

I would guess that Albanwise are harvesting mature oak trees all round here

there are I’d estimate at least a hundred trees piled up here where there’s access from the main road

each side of the NT gate

really it’s a shock to find this many trees felled

and they have been in to all of it and taken the large oaks

leaving smashed up branches

and stumps. so the question is, are they going to replant? and does this have anything to do with a 2013 statement

that they were then thinking of more intensively managing their 300 hectares of woodland, possibly using the product for woodchip fuel

whatever the intention, it’s horrifying to see trees cut down that would have been viable for at least another two hundred years, and helped to keep our carbon dioxide emissions just a little lower, at the same time as we are seeing apocalyptic film of the Amazon forest burning, and fires in the Arctic boreal forests out of control in Siberia, canada and Alaska.

 

two walks in Fife

Posted jane -->on 24th Aug 2019

yesterday we went to Kemback wood, a steep woodland quite near to St Andrews, for a shady walk at lunchtime, thinking of what was best for the dogs as well as ourselves.

this walk begins and ends with a pretty gate, first through the stone wall near the Neo-Gothic parish church, stone-built  in 1820 and very small with narrow pointed windows. you drive up an alarmingly steep lane to get to it.

the gate leads to a path along the lower edge of the wood, looking out

under trees into meadows. one tree was a huge field maple, I’ve never seen such a magnificent specimen, as big as a mature beech. I’m pretty sure it was field maple, with small maple-type leaves and the rather spongey bark.

small burns flow down the hill

Em always likes a paddle

B not so much unless she’s been running

this burn tumbles down the hill from a set of waterfalls, amongst bluebells

and ends up in this pond, flowing over the far edge. across the meadows is Kemback House

our path led up and up. we were thankful for the shade and the breeze shimmering the dappled light

when we got to the top, past caves, or quarrying in the level bedded sandstone, the path skirted some steep drops

then we were out into the back of Blebo Craigs, and a grass field with a gorse portal to this path

back into the edge of the wood

through a narrow kissing gate, and then down what seemed like hundreds of steps back to the church. a good work-out for all parts of legs and bum.

this morning we drove to Balmerino, a bit further from St Andrews, near Tayport and on the Tay estuary. I actually looked at a small house for sale here about three years ago, but the enclosable garden was too small for dogs. this yellow painted one would suit me better, but it’s not for sale, of course.

a few metres down the lane you drop down to the Fife coastal path and a shingle beach

today the tide was low and the water clear and still

the estuary is huge, the Tay has a catchment area of two thousand square miles and is the longest river in Scotland.

the coastal path takes you along the edge of the estuary, on a paved path above the shingle, and then up steps into a wood full of bluebells and also many campfire hearths. today there was a beach clean along here, and I imagine there’s a lot of litter and debris involved with this camp fire activity.

several burns flow down the steep slopes, with footbridges crossing them

the path wanders up and down

at times near the beach, where there were some line fishermen and views across the Tay

not so much of a breeze today and higher temperatures.

the beach with overhanging trees made me think of a book I’m reading at the moment, Oliver Rackham’s The Ancient Woods of the Helford River, which has just been published by Little Toller Press. In that part of Cornwall, on the Lizard peninsula just south of Falmouth, the land is interpenetrated by drowned valleys, where the woods come down to the sea in the same way.

here though a lot of the trees are non-native conifers

with some clumps of beech, also planted. Beech is common in Fife, but it is not native.

we turned off the coastal path to take a track back to Balmerino. the conifer wood is very obvious in this view of the Tay and the farmland opposite.

the track is bordered with ditches, some sounding with water burbling, and hedges of bramble and sloe,  edged with rosebay willow herb. in the middle of the track we found this huge elephant hawk moth caterpillar looking for somewhere to pupate. Rose bay willow herb is a favourite food plant. the adult moth has a wingspan up to 2 1/2 inches and is a beautiful creature, olive green and pink. you can see this one’s horn at its rear end and the double eye patches near the head. it was flowing across the track at speed.

we found a more portable treasure as well – a jay’s secondary wing feather with the blue stripe of the covert feathers like a jewel on the edges of the white.

I would have expected to hear and see buzzards around here but there was nothing. too near the sea? over-active gamekeepers? (we saw a pheasant rearing enclosure in the woods) perhaps we were just unlucky.

today the Tay was like a mirror

back in Balmerino we popped into the grounds of the ruined abbey, founded in the thirteenth century by a band of twelve Cistercians.

it was converted into a house by the first Lord of Balmerino in the sixteenth century, and so much of it survives.

actually we were more interested in the four hundred year old sweet chestnut tree in the grounds.

 

early blues and a smaller splash

Posted jane -->on 19th Aug 2019

back in Scotland after an eight hour drive through rain and wind (only on the M6 and M74) and surface water yesterday.

wind this morning but with it light and shadow and clarifying blues

early morning walks at West Sands beach are rewarding, both in terms of cobwebs blown away and in sheer beauty

also in the opportunity for my running dog to run – difficult in the summer in North Norfolk where beaches are crowded and the temperatures a bit much

with the tide out this morning there was plenty of room

she was completely blown after a second session – not a teenager any more

though the energy seems endless.

all along the high tide mark there are clumps of sea rocket flowering

it’s a salt resistant sand loving plant that responds to sand blowing over it by vigorous growth, and it has a deep tap root to keep it in place and find moisture. there’s a lot along the edge of the sandy beach at Blakeney Point, and it’s typical in the Hebrides – in fact all round the British coast where there’s sand and dunes.

I was delighted and astonished to find more harebells growing in the sandy grass than I’ve ever seen before, probably altogether more than I’ve ever seen in my life.

I think this grass must qualify as machair, though it’s not in the Hebrides or any Western Isles. harebells love a chalky soil, and one of the characteristics of machair is a high lime content of the soil, due to shells breaking down on the beach.

lots of rosebay willow herb too

but the harebells were just stunning

thickly spread blue, lighter and more airy than bluebells

those of us who walk in birkenstocks with bare feet …..

and more blue – this was the product of the leftover oil paint during last week, a smaller canvas, 50 x 50 cm.

it has something of the drama of the beach and sky this morning in its contrasts

and textures

but it does remind me a little of the splash detail in Hockney’s swimming pool paintings, so “A smaller splash”

meanwhile B is on her hols and I have brought some new watercolours to see if I can do the delicate thing for a change.

holt lowes – a favourite place

Posted jane -->on 14th Aug 2019

a few years ago I stopped going to this place, because under the aegis of the Norfolk Wildlife Trust all the mature silver birches were grubbed up, and a lot of soil removed back to flinty ashy subsoil

in an attempt to get it back to the four thousand year old heathland it had once been.

the idea is to encourage the heathers – bell heather like this –

and ordinary like this –

and to cut the gorse back.

the trees got in the way and changed the biome.

but nature is irrepressible, and a few Dartmoor ponies put in to encourage the grass will not keep back the growth of trees. Once it was common land with rights of grazing and furze cutting for households in Holt, and presumably there were hosts of goats, cows, geese, sheep and people using the land. now it’s dog-walker territory, with some rare flora and fauna – sphagnum moss and natterjack toads, more common on Dartmoor than in Norfolk. the birch seedlings sprout everywhere.

not many people walk here either, it’s very quiet,

the ponies are fat and peaceful,

a little mischievous perhaps,

appearing and disappearing mysteriously amongst the remaining trees.

I’d thought we were going to get a wet walk but the morning warmed up,

there were gatekeepers and painted ladies flitting about,

and the regrowth of the gorse makes the paths sheltered.

one could have done with a sit down,

but Em and Bims got a paddle at least.

the flinty dry upper heath is cut in two by a damp trickle and pools – a small wetland.

this pool’s trees are full of willow warblers in early summer.

it’s the time of year for heather –

here the gorse cutter has succeeded in making it look like a heath.

it’s a place that’s good for winter walking with these dry peaty, sandy paths. of course, you can’t let dogs off the lead near the ponies – but I wouldn’t have Bims off anyway.

 

Ty Newydd again

Posted jane -->on 13th Aug 2019

Back to Ty Newydd, the National Writing Centre of Wales for a nature writing course with Mark Cocker and Kathleen Jamie (with Horatio Clare as the guest writer/reader) last week. when I was there in the autumn it was late October and quite a different feel to everything. and this was such a different course to the rather alternative storytelling retreat with Hugh Lupton and Eric Madden.

last week it was warm and we had a lot of sun

the lavender in flower and filled with bees – honey, and several different bumblebees

I think this is a carder bee

and this is a white-tailed bumble. One of our morning workshops with Mark had us looking hard at the bees for at least fifteen minutes to write something really concentrated about them.

there were also dragonflies – this is a dead one found in the house

and a few moths. this rosy footman was stranded in the house overnight

having entered and become confused by the glass the night before. there are so many moths with wonderful names; it was great to have someone (Mark) who is an expert on insects to share information.

this time I managed a walk to the beach almost every morning – the circular walk is just over two miles, taking in small paths

through tree-edged fields of grass

under the single railway line

past brambles – ripe blackberries one morning for breakfast –

bracken, grazing cows

a deliciously tarry hut

down to where the river Dwyfor comes out into Cardigan Bay

and along the coastal path

beside burling water (burly water described by Norman MacCaig) that in spate into a high tide must be quite a sight –

but the tide was out or going out in the mornings last week – and one morning a heron flapped across low to the little waves

there’s always a special light in the mornings

and back up to the house, David Lloyd George’s last home

a lawn full of self-heal, and the semi-circular porch and window echoed by lines of flat pebbles set on end raying out in another semicircle before the grass starts

the house is surrounded by mature trees, but this walnut is my favourite, its branch across the stone steps down to the kitchen and utility part of the house.

I omitted to take photos of the wood and the river where we spent one morning making notes, leaving me with a few close-up portraits of Himalayan balsam flowers – extraordinary sexy glutinous objects.

full of thoughts about my own writing and about the very good insights into the poems we worked on, from the whole group of writers, and from Kathleen Jamie. I drove home in a gale, shreds of leaves flying across the road. these damsons blown early off the tree in my garden went into a cake. the next lot will be gin.

those blues seem to have got under my skin

yesterday I tackled a large oil painting (48 x 48 inches) which has been waiting for me to know what to do to it. the large emulsion brush turned out to be the key.

it’s good to have a break from something like painting. doors open, just like that!