The Hills

Half a mile and maybe 30 years or so (judging by the possible ages of the individual scaring) separate these two pieces of graffiti with the same name.  Both are carved into Beech trees, though no surprise there, naturally Beech is by far the most popular canvas. The isolated nature of the area, set in the open rolling rural landscape of the Chase, suggest to me that the two pieces are related to the same family. G. Hill is the older, as I've said before aging graffiti is difficult due to the multiple variables although I'd say it's from the 70's/80's? Whereas J. Hill is conveniently dated 98, and of course that'll be 1998 not 1898, graffiti of that period never have the date abbreviated and the text is usually of high quality and indicative of the period. Of course I'll never know and they could be totally unrelated, but as with all graffiti I'd love to know their stories.

Access rant

We were over halfway through our walk today and had just walked up a steep hill, the sun beating down on us, when we reached the stile only to find there was no dog portal. This is a common problem when out walking. You'll be following designated footpaths, through gates and over stiles, no problems and then come to a stile with no dog access and you're stumped, you're hunting around for a solution. Over? Under? Through? Today there was no over, no under, no through and no alternative. My options were limited. Lift Norris? No, he's a big fella and either of us could get hurt. No, another solution had to be found. Luckily I carry a variety of tools and things. So I pulled out one of the galvanized staples securing the bottom of the wire fence and using some force managed pull it up enough to allow Norris through. Of course I then replaced the staple and secured the wire. The point is I shouldn't have too, the custodians of the land should ensure access or people should be allowed to take what action the need to proceed on their route. Most people wouldn't have had any tools with them and would've had to back track some distance and then find an alternative route. If you want people to stick to the paths ensure they're accessible or we'll find alternative paths where we can. I know that's a bit rich coming from me with my frequent off path routes, though the point still stands.

Landmarks

When you walk in and area a lot it becomes very comfortable, you navigate almost on auto pilot, subconsciously positioning yourself by the the familiar landmarks you often unknowingly register. Until they're missing that is.  Walking through Great Huntley Bank today I felt a little disorientated, I realized something wasn't right, the trees looked familiar but something wasn't right, I couldn't orientate myself. I looked for the landmark which I use to orientate myself in this part of the woods, the deer stalking chair. I couldn't see it.  I knew where I was, or thought I did, though now I began to question myself. A queer sensation. Where's the chair? When I found it, I found the reason for my confusion. The chair I'd used for years as a reference point has been demolished; I suppose the deer become wary of certain spots after a while.  I'd enjoyed sitting here looking out over the woodland. It made think how maybe to save space in our minds for other stuff, we distill things down to only that which maintains function; with the location of the deer stalking chair I could orientate myself in the wood, without it I'm lost in a place I walk all the time. If that makes sense. I'll have to find a new landmark now.

Go Sloe

The Blackthorns are hanging with immature berries, many of a very good size; it should be a good season. I'd better think about getting stocked up with gin and vodka.

Toast

I love a slice of toast.

Flidais

A friend recently asked me about the Goddess Flidais. Flidais (pronounced Flee-dash, Flee-dish, Flee-ish) is one of the less well known of the Tuatha Dé Danann (the people/tribe/nation of the Goddess Danu). The fair haired Flidais Foltchaoin or Flidais 'the beautiful haired', is an archetypal Mother Goddess figure of abundance, fertility and nurturing, but also she's much more.  Flidais is the woodland Goddess (often equated with Diana or Artemis), mistress of stags who travels through the forests in her chariot drawn by deer; she's the huntress but also the protector and nurturer of the woodland and wider landscape along with all its wild inhabitants, its trees, its flora and fauna. For me Flidais is the Earth Mother avatar through which I communicate with the woodland and wider nature, the Goddess to which I feel closest and the one I most frequently seek a connection with. Flidais doesn't just protect wild animals, no, she also protects domestic animals too, to which end she's said to possess a herd of cattle who can produce bountiful quantities of milk on demand. She's a shape-shifter, so can appear to us in many guises according to necessity, though often in the form of a woodland animal, hound or deer; for me she appeared as a deer. Some historians doubt her existence although Flidais features in several of the ancient Ulster Cycle of tales such as in the Cattle Raid of Cooley, The Driving off of Flidais’s Cattle (where her magic cattle feature) and other texts. These texts also described her as strong and as knowing her own mind, a highly sensual and sexual Goddess, and is mentioned as having great sexual prowess. Flidais as you'd imagine being a Mother Goddess figure is a Goddess of nurturing and healing, she's the one you'd turn to when it's all getting to much and you need some support as only a mother can give; she protects the poor, the destitute, the outcast and the fatherless children. She's a mother herself, in the 'Book of invasions' to daughters Dianann and Bé Chuille (sorceresses of the Tuatha Dé Danann) and Bé Téite (the cultivator) and to son Arden (also a cultivator); in the Metrical Dindshenchas she is said to be the mother to Fand (the sea Goddess) and in the 'Fitness of Names' Nia Segamain is also sited as her son. That in brief is Flidais.

Harebells

Ah, the Harebell (Campanula rotundifolia), one the most delicate and beautiful of wildflowers, yet often found set in such exposed situations, is flowering in swathes across the chalk downs. Its flowers have the look of fragile pale blue crepe paper and are so wafer thin. The Harebell is often said to tremble in the breeze, though rocking to and fro in todays stiff wind it looked as if they were barely holding their ground. 

Summer fruits

I saw and picked my first ripe Blackberries of the season today.  Quiet early I thought for Blackberries, though the berries I picked were on the whole sweet and juicy, a few were a touch tart but not that it made eating the fruits unpleasant. It was great taking in the Sun and some of natures bounty. One of the joys of walking is the opportunity to forage as you go, just pastime now, although part of our very existence for hundreds of thousands of years. Blackberries have been found in prehistoric contexts dating back 8000 years or more, it wouldn't have been so long ago that individual, family and community seasonal foraging activities would have been common. Though sadly our disenfranchisement from nature during the second half of the 20th century has meant it remains only as an echo, a shadow of what it was, pursued by a minority. They don't know what they're missing out on.  It may sound strange, but I get a real feeling of connection when engaged with nature in this way, a feeling of timelessness continuity, engaging in the same activities as my ancestors and their ancestors before them, doing something human.  As I said, people don't know what they're missing. 

Sunset

The sun set behind the only cloud on the horizon. The sky's big out here over the Tarrant valley and I'm certain there'll be dramatic cloudscapes and sunsets to be seen when the time's right. Now though although we don't have the drama at sundown we've certainly got the colour, and what colour it is, tonight was so rich and warm it saturated the whole landscape. Lovely.

Nuts

I can't remember such a promising year for Hazel nuts, it appears nearly every tree has a bumper crop of nuts weighing down their boughs and of a good size. This year for the first time we've got nuts coming on our garden Hazels and they've good sized nuts too; the oldest of our trees is about 6 years old and has now reached a fair size, say about 4m high, they can reach about 12m; though I'll have coppiced it before then. Left to grow naturally a Hazel has around an 80 year lifespan, although if coppiced you can extend that to several hundred years. I think the oldest in Britain is about 500 years or so old.  I said ' promising year' as it's not harvesting time yet and I don't like counting my chickens and all that. If it is good mind, I've got lots of ideas and things I want to try.

Give us today our daily wheat based products

Walking through bread basket fields today I had cause to think of how many of our daily ingredients we take for granted. Everything's changing and I don't think many people realize what that might mean. Climate change, falling bee populations, disease, all will have an effect on our food chain, it's reliability and productivity. Then I started thinking from a prepping angle. Take wheat here; we take wheat for granted, relatively new as it is (about 6000 years in these parts), it's a staple in many of our diets. Imagine it gone, or the systems which allow its industrial scale production being disrupted; no bread, no pasta and no pastry. What would people do, what would they eat? I thought, how would I grow wheat and how much would I need to grow? I have no idea about either. I then thought, even with my allotment and extensive foraging experience, how sad it was that I'm so removed from the food stuffs I consume and take for granted. So, next year I'm going to have a go at growing some wheat on the allotment, small scale obviously, but maybe a 4m square or something.

Wild Marjoram

The wheel turns and as it does so does nature, each point on the wheel of the year has its sights, its sounds or its scents. Now through the grassland scrub clearings and along the hedgerows it's the time of Wild Marjoram (Origanum vulgare). The scent of Wild Marjoram drifts on the air, such a well used herb in the kitchen, your nose easily picks it out. It's everywhere. The tightly closed purple buds are opening to reveal the pretty pink flowers; this is the perfect time to harvest Marjoram, just as the flowers are about to open. Of course I collected some, use it fresh or dry it for later; mines drying above me now, it would've been rude not to accept a gift from nature.  In a few days it'll be dried and in jars, ready to bring the taste of summer to meals in cooler seasons.

The rescue

I did my good deed for the day today when I freed a sheep from a fence. By the look of it the sheep, whose head was firmly stuck through the wire fence, had been stuck there some time, wool thickly coated the wires where the animal had repeatedly tried to free itself and the ground beneath it too churned up by its efforts. Now, it wasn't too happy with our approach, though could do little about it. I tried all sorts of things, I pulled it, I tried to stretch the wire, cut the wire; in the end I climbed the fence and tried to manipulate the sheeps head back through whilst gently pushing. Eventually it was through and free; it ran off and we continued on our way. It's nice to be nice.

Jammin

I've been jammin, jammin, jammin, I hope you're like jammin too. Well, it is the season, for jam making that is. This year our allotment has so far produced bumper crops strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries and blackcurrants (with blueberries and blackberries still to come). We've eaten fresh of plenty but what better way of extending our enjoyment than making jam and I have. I've made strawberry, gooseberry, blackcurrant, raspberry and mixed fruits, I've made just over 10ltr of jam so far.  Preserving's a great way to make the most of surpluses you grow or forage, as well as prepping skill, preserving would be essential for maintaining a supply of food all year round. One thing that struck me whilst thinking down this path was how many of our preserving methods require large supplies of processed ingredients such as salt, sugar and vinegar, all things I'd imagine would all but disappear with the collapse of society. Something for me to think about when planning for social collapse or a zombie apocalypse (which ever strikes first). Still in the meantime, whilst it's there in bountiful quantities, I'm going to enjoy my jam.   

All New X Men & Guardians of the galaxy: The Trial of Jean Grey.

Back in the Marvel universe now with 'All New X Men and the Guardians of the galaxy: The Trial of Jean Grey'. This in essence is just the retelling of the well known titular tale, but with some changes pertinent to the current X men narrative. That doesn't mean it's not got its merits or value. In this retelling Jean Grey (sometimes known as Phoenix/Dark Phoenix), along with other X men, has been plucked from a different reality/universe to ours and is unaware of the Phoenix or her actions in this universe. She's an innocent. When the Shi'ar empire finds out that the Phoenix force is back on Earth, they kidnap Jean and put her on trial for crimes 'she' never committed and knows nothing about. Though through the interrogation and trial process they awake a force in Jean that wasn't present before.  In this retelling the all new X Men join forces with the Guardians of the galaxy, who have sworn to protect Earth (Earth being Peter Quill's (Starlord) home planet), to rescue Jean from the Shi'ar home world. It's a good tale, well told, well illustrated and well worth a read.

Saga: Vol:1

I'd read good things about Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and illustrated by Fiona Staples and then was lucky enough to be gifted a copy by a good friend. Which was nice. Now, this friend tends to go for the less mainstream, more independent titles and has a track record of highlighting good reads (I too enjoy independent titles although spend a lot of my time reading in the Marvel/DC universes), so was looking forward to the read. I wasn't to be disappointed, the opening panel had be laughing straight off with the opening line 'Am I shitting', not what you expect to read. The tale in Saga is timeless, horned boy meets winged girl, both from different worlds pitched in an endless war with each other, they have a baby and for the reasons you'd imagine have to get the hell out of Dodge as everybody wants the baby. This is a gloriously written and illustrated melding of traditional tale, fantasy and science fiction into a most engaging read. You've got horned types, winged types, dead folk, half robot types, magic, bounty hunters, organic spacecraft and so much more; what's not to like. I look forward to reading more.    

Elephant Hawk Moth

A welcome visitor flew in this evening, a large Elephant Hawk Moth (Deilephila elpenor), man, was it beautiful. The Elephant Hawk Moth feeds at night on nectar rich plants like Honeysuckle, which we have here in the garden. With its hairy khaki (on top) swede like head and body, with its striking pink markings and its matching khaki delta wings also fringed with pink, its under wings and lower body too are striking pink and its legs are white; it really is a wonderful and exciting thing to see. Big too; its wing span is about 70mm. I've often wondered why so many nocturnal moths have developed such spectacular colouring and markings: I'm sure there's a reason, though I don't know it. A really lovely thing to see, nature at her best.

Call the ministry! The Dementors have left Azkaban and are massing over North Dorset. A moody walk this evening along the high ground following the Tarrant valley. The sky was streaked by cloud and then strange clouds, mammato cumulus I understand, which appeared over a clump of woodland, began to develop giving a really eerie feel; these clouds shifted and morphed, at one point looking like a 70's lava lamp, before drifting off to the South East.  I don't know whether the clouds set the tone or charged air of the developing electric storm or it was just a weird day, but this twilight walk had an unnerving feel to it. The local wildlife were active, hares, deer, foxes and unseen things moved through the hedgerows and fields, inside shadowy woods stuff was happening, what stuff I don't know, only silhouettes were visible in the failing light.

Cider apples

I've had my eye on this tree, I'm hoping to make some cider later in the year and this tree I'm hoping will provide me with the apples I need. It never ceases to amaze me how few natural resources are utilized, every year nuts go uncollected, blackberries go over on their canes and the apple trees near me drop their fruit unnoticed (other than by me, who's happy for the foraging opportunities). I think it's part of our collective modern mentality that if you haven't bought/paid for something it has no value, how lost we are. Anyway, these apples are developing well and fingers crossed I'll get a good crop and make some palatable cider.

Torn cloud

It was an odd sunset from Bradbury Rings this evening, blue hues were prominent, saturating everything and giving the landscape an underwater feel. Blue filled the sky all but for one small tear giving us a glimpse into the brightly illuminated world beyond and the sinking sun.

Pyramidal Orchid

I've been blown away by the quantity and diversity of the orchids which call the ramparts of Badbury Rings home.  Throughout June the Common Spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii) held the ground in huge numbers, a few groups of Greater Butterfly Orchids (Platanthera chlorantha) could also be spotted about the place and now with their demise the Pyramidal Orchid (Anacamptis pyramidalis) rules.

Who'd hatch from an egg like this?

Who'd hatch from an egg like this? I don't know! Although a search on the interweb leads me to believe it could be a Wood Pigeon (Columba palumbus) or a Collared Dove (Streptopelia decaocto) or a Green Woodpecker (Picus viridis) or maybe a Short Eared Owl (Asio flammeus) or, or...... Ah the interweb, useful up to a point. Anyway, I found this egg on the woodland floor in Chettle Head Copse, it hadn't hatched, nor was it damaged. I couldn't see any nest above, in fact the above it the canopy was thin. It was cold, although didn't look like it had been lying there for too long. Well, it's a mystery to me. Birds and their eggs are something I need to educate myself on, it's certainly gap in my natural world knowledge.

Feeders

The label on the side read 'This equipment is part of a wildlife research project; PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH' so I didn't, though I was intrigued as to what their function may be and to what the research project is. I saw several scattered through Chettle Head Copse, a small deciduous wood of maturing Oaks of varying ages (maximum about 200 years old) with a coppiced Hazel under-story with Ramson floor coverage; one I saw had the number '19' on it, so I imagine there's at least that number in the wood. After a while examining the box I really couldn't work out how it worked or their purpose; all the boxes were filled to the same level with dried corn nibblets, the only access appeared to be via the hinged lid beyond which the unit was sealed. I wonder what species they're researching? I can only imagine it's Squirrels or another mammal, as I can't see a bird opening or risking opening a box like this. I checked out around the host trees and could see no sign of nibblets or signs of animal activity. That said, all the boxes look newly placed so maybe the research has only recently begun. Next time over this way (as unobtrusively as I can, there is a footpath which passes through the copse and close to a couple of the boxes) and see if any thing's changed.

Flutterbys

I've heard it said that the Celts believed that butterflies were the spirits of their ancestors returned to visit the world of the living. If so, they'd returned in force today and where better to return to than the ancient landscape of Cranborne Chase, a landscaped shaped and left indelibly marked by the activities of man for over 6000 years. The area is renowned for prehistoric archaeology and its butterflies, and rightly so, the air was thick with them, I'll say hundreds although really it must have been thousands but that sounds like I'm exaggerating, nearly every blade of tall grass or grassland flower was topped by a pausing flier, only for a short while though, as the slightest disturbance would send them skittishly aloft. Two types of butterfly dominated the grasslands today: the big and bold Marbled White (Melanargia galathea) and the smaller skittish Large Skipper (Ochlodes venatus) which in reality aren't that large at all. Both butterflies were beautiful and elegant, both filled me with childish joy and wonder as the air filled with them as we passed.

The Graveyard Book, Vol 2

Today I returned to magical world of the graveyard in P. Craig Russells graphic interpretation of Neil Gaimans novel The Graveyard Book, Vol 2.  Volume 2 continues the marvelous work begun in the first volume; the writing and art continue to be of high quality making this tale a thoroughly engaging page turner as we see 'Bod' grow and the journey started by the events of the first chapter move towards fruition. As Bod grows things inevitably begin to change and his educational needs and wants see him attending school beyond the graveyards confines; of course this leads to trouble. We see a familiar face return to the graveyard, as does a suspicious character, and a dangerous journey beyond the confines and relative safety of the graveyard and into the mysterious world of those who targeted his family begins. I can't say anymore really and I shan't say how it ends, although I will say I found it quiet melancholic as Bod and the graveyard change; though this was resolved for me on the last but one page. A recommended and worthwhile read.  

Storm

Today was all sweetness and light and we enjoyed a good walk out in the forest, though as afternoon gave way to evening the sky changed becoming angrier looking as clouds began to spill over the horizon; there must be a storm coming. Sure enough when the sun finally sunk, the clouds thickened, the sky darkened, Thor struck his hammer and in the distance lights flashed across a mottled backdrop. As twilight succumbed to night the storm drew closer and the space between thunder and lightning flash diminished until they were simultaneous, the storm was upon us and the night was illuminated by an electrical storm the like of which I can't remember. We ventured to the cliff top to join the others who always congregate at such moments, there we enjoyed the show, oohs and arrs accompanied every flash, and there were plenty of them, sometimes several at the same time.  Almost continuous lighting for over 10 minutes, I've never seen anything like it! Nature's great, scary, but great.

The Spreading Oak

Another notable ancient today, this time the Spreading Oak it the north of the forest. Set in open heath between Slufters and Ocknell enclosures the Spreading Oak is 5.6m in circumference, making it at least 500 years old or more probably much older.  On the ground in the shade of its dense canopy lie numerous bough in various stages of decomposition, which over the years have fallen foul of the high winds which frequently scour the forests high northern plateau. Where a branch has fallen in the past a hollow in the Oak has formed, the specks (which look like dust on the lens) you can see are lots of wild honey bees who have made their home therein; frantically collecting the returning then embarking on collection one again, the traffic was busy and they fill the air. A beautiful ancient oak its tranquil setting is disturbed only by the nearby and noisy A31; still though, well worth a visit.

St. Nicholas Yew

Tucked away up a lane on the outskirts of Brockenhurst in the New Forest is the 12th century church of St. Nicholas, a lovely building in itself, though what singles it out as special is the 1000 year plus old Yew (Taxus baccata) that stands beside it. What a magnificent tree. It's common to find Yews in churchyards, their association with death and rebirth extends far back into human history. To the Iron Age Celts the Yew was sacred (a Romano-British temple is thought to have stood here before the Christian church) and to the Saxons too, both pagan and Christian, the tree also held significance (a Saxon church also stood on this site), it's more than likely that its importance to people extends well into prehistory.  Its almost universal importance where ever found suggests its roots are deeply entwined with our own spiritual consciousness as does the continuity with which it remains as religious practices and paths rise and fall. If you're over this way take time out to visit it and spend some time in its company.

Choock

There's still Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureusto) be found out in the forest, even with so little rain, and this example from Jacks Wood was very fresh and had the most wonderful and vibrant colours.

The Graveyard Book, Vol 1

Over time I've read several graphic novels which had been graphic representations of previously released traditional format novels, and none had really hit the spot, there was always something lacking, something didn't gel and I always came away disappointed. Not so with The Graveyard Book, Vol 1: P Craig Russells graphic interpretation of Neil Gaimans novel. Now you can't go far wrong with Gaimans work anyway, he consistently produces quality work and Russell's done that work proud, both in his adaptation and as one of the many artists who've contributed to the graphic.  The story focuses on 'Bod' a baby who escapes the murder of his family and finds sanctuary in a near by graveyard, there through the graveyards inhabitants he learns about life and the world, having been accepted as one of them. I shan't give anymore away other than to say it's a charming story beautifully written and illustrated by all the contributing artists, peppered with historical snippets, filled with great characters and situations all of which lead us towards answering the questions posed by the initial events.  A great read, I can't wait to read The Graveyard Book, Vol 2; the concluding chapter.

Marlycombe Hill

The idea of a timeless British countryside can often be seen as an over used cliché, something that never really was and only exists in our collective imaginations, although walking in the hills above the Chalke Valley it's hard not to be drawn into the idea of just such a thing.  Nostalgia's  funny, described as 'a sentimental longing or wistful affection for a period in the past', in many cases for a period we never experienced first hand and only see positively through rose coloured glasses. I think as our society fractures, our systems continue to decay and we find ourselves in times of social upheaval with the threat of chaos, our desire for the stability of a perceived 'better time' becomes ever stronger. 

Nuts are forming

I noticed my first hazelnuts this afternoon, and you know what it's like, once you notice one you notice them all and it appeared that many of the trees were amply covered. The foragers friend, high in protein, carbohydrates and un-saturated fat, along with ample vitamins and minerals, hazelnuts make for an important wild food resource which stores easily and well; there's evidence of wide scale collection and processing of hazelnuts in our island since the Mesolithic and no doubt they'd have been utilized for a long time before. It'll be awhile yet before I'm out collecting, though it's nice to see them coming along.

Six spot Burnet

Todays caterpillar is that of the Six spot Burnet (Zygaena filipendulae): the Six spot Burnet is a day flying moth you'd certainly recognize from hot sunny days walking in grassland, it's the distinctive black one with red spots on its wings. You know the one. We saw several of these pulpy little fellows clinging to the stout grasses covering the ramparts at Badbury.

Badbury again

The sun may have been shy yesterday at sunset, though this evening looked promising so we made our way back to Bradbury once again, the sky was clear tonight and as the sun sunk slowly below the distant hills it dragged the days colour with it. Nice.

Summer Solstice

We came to watch the solstice sun go down and down it went, though as much as we sought it, we didn't see it as it was beyond layers and layers of cloud. We knew it was there mind and made our connection. It didn't really matter though that there was no sunset, we sat quietly amongst the wealth of wildflowers adorning the ramparts of Badbury Rings, looking out over the rolling Dorset landscape and enjoyed the remains of the day, the last chorus of birds before dark and the waking calls of distant owls, things began stirring somewhere in the undergrowth behind us as the end of the day for some is the beginning of the night for others. Solstice blessing y'all.

Anti austerity march in London

A day of two halves, of positives and negatives, uplifting and depressing in equal measure... equilibrium.  I'll try and balance both sides as I go along. Well, firstly there weren't as many participating as I'd have liked or hoped for.  That said, those who attended came from diverse organizations, were from across the country and were of various ages, genders and cultural backgrounds, representation was diverse; one aspect that I was particularly heartened by were the amount of young people who took part, it's often cited that young people are apathetic, and yes, many no doubt are, but maybe it's more that they've not had the opportunities or scope to participate and that decent is not condoned.  I was happy to see that there was more media coverage for this protest than usually given to the multitude of weekly demonstrations somewhere in the country and most of it quite fair, even generous when citing '250,000 protesters', there was no way that many people were there; though the mainstream media coverage still focused on the celebrities rather than the issues, that said, online coverage was very good and many of the celebrity speakers were great, Charlotte Church, Mark Steel and Jeremy Corbyn in particular, Natalie Bennett too was for more articulate in person than on radio or tv.  The Police, ones I saw anyway, acted with good humour, one even posing for a less than flattering photo with his ice cream. Many clearly understood who the enemy was and why the people were marching; front line officers weren't tooled up for war, the riot types were kept in back roads so not to insight no doubt, and you couldn't feel an overly oppressive ominous atmosphere which was refreshing, even the exploits of the Black/Red Flag types received the minimum of attention. There was a positive atmosphere with performers, music, some imaginative placards and general good spirits, it was uplifting to be with others of similar minds, knowing you're not alone in the fight, giving some glimmer of hope and maybe a chance of change; though I had to steel myself for the facts: hope can be a dangerous illusion and change is never easily won, I had to fight hard to keep my nihilism at bay. Still, on reflection I saw more to be positive about than negative, though I'm under no illusion that things are going to get a lot worse before, or if, any positive changes are to manifest. We need to engage in more protests whilst we still enjoy that right, show our dissent, we need to make the government fight for every policy they try to foist upon us; not only to stem their assaults on all we hold dear, but for our own sanity and dignity. This doesn't only have to be on mass rallies in capitols, more importantly it has to be locally, on local issues. If one thing has firmly established itself in my mind it's that the only chance we have to facilitate the changes we want to see, is by taking local actions is our best prospect and that's where hope will be kept alive and nurtured.  

Solstice ritual

The wheel has turned and Solstice approaches, it's time for ritual celebration. Tonight I joined other pagan types of differing paths in the forest for one of the Clan of the Pheryllt's seasonal open rituals. I saw many a familiar face and new ones to boot; I think I've been attending Pheryllt rituals for nearly 4 years now, they're a great group, very friendly and welcoming. As is usual with the  Clan of the Pheryllt's open rituals it was an friendly affair, the ritual was an OBOD* one and so Druidic in nature; I liked that as it was through such rituals I came to my spiritual path and feel very comfortable with them.  As I said, the participants are a nice bunch and the rituals always have a family feel to them, undertaken with genuine reverence for our natural world and all who dwell therein, with love and often with a fair portion of humour. Tonight there were a couple of bardic offerings too: a lady with a flute/whistle type thing which had a First Nation sound to it played a beautiful tune, followed by Spanish lady singing a captivating song she had written. I wish I had the confidence to participate I see in others. Another lovely ritual leaving you feeling good. Afterwards we adjourned to the Forest Inn in Brockenhurst for the moot portion of the evening, I wasn't going to go what with up early tomorrow, though was talked in to swift one, planning to go before 2200, it was 2300 before I left, still that's by far the earliest I've got away from a Brockenhurst moot. All in all it was a lovely ritual and moot, an evening well spent; a big thank you to the Clan of the Pheryllt.

* Order of Bards Ovates and Druids. 

Evening scent

Is there anything more beautiful or fragrant on evening walks at this time of year than the scent of Honeysuckle on the air? Even singularly their scent is easily smelt and raises the spirits, though on mass their perfume is so heady it overwhelms your senses, holding you momentarily in pure sensory bliss.

Coastal cloud

It was a sweltering day in the Purbeck Hills, for the outward section of our walk we stuck to the shade afforded by the thick canopied deciduous woodland on the inland side of Brenscombe and Godlingston Hills, which was nice, humid but nice. We scrambled along thin animal tracks for the most part as there aren't that many path in much of these woods, using the trees as support and a means of not careering down the steep hillside. The latter wooded section under Godlingston Hill is relatively new walking to me, having only recently been unenclosed by fencing; I'm not sure if there's permissive access, though I took the opportunity to walk there anyway, they can always tell me to 'get orf my land'. Although lovely views, we weren't so fortunate with shade on our return along the ridge, totally exposed the walking was hot and tiring work, our only salvation being the cooling winds coming in from the west. Still, I mustn't complain, as from our vantage point on the high hills we could see that across the Corfe valley the coastal ridge and cliffs were shrouded in thick low cloud and I'd imagine very limited visibility was to be had making for a totally different walking experience.

Bee Orchids

The main purpose of my walk over this way a week or so ago was to see some Bee Orchids (Ophrys apifera), although checking my past posts I was still a bit early, today though my mission was more successful, some had flowered and I was lucky enough to spot them. The Bee Orchid really is a spectacular flower, one of my favourite orchids and one that I'll actively seek out when its season comes around, as its habit is such that it can be abundant for a year or two and then absent for many.  As it happens, last year there was an abundance of Bee Orchids in the spots I know, whereas this year so far they've been scarce. There are several varieties of Bee Orchids, this variety is (Ophrys apifera aurita), it's the only one I've come across to date, though I'll keep looking.