A break in transmission.

That Lughnasadh post was the last for a while. Currently I've have  monitor issues and I've to rely on my son's monitor the couple of times I've needed to get online. Not ideal for regular connection. So until I've resolved my monitor issue I'm taking a short hiatus. Laters y'all. 

Lughnasadh

The wheel turns, a season matures and the world around us changes. With Lughnasadh's golden carpet and the burgeoning of first harvest upon us, it's easy to see the manifest fruits nature has afforded us. This year she's being particularly generous. Lughnasadh blessings y'all /|\

Witchampton

Geoff and I were up and out early this morning to avoid the heat, out wandering the myriad paths and tracks which criss cross the farming landscape above Badbury Rings around Witchampton. I think sometimes people can view farmland as second class walking, though they're wrong, you'd be surprised just how much there is to see out here, it's a much more diverse landscape than you'd think. This rich chalkland, the land, the flora and fauna, it's tracks, all have been moulded and shaped by millennia of evolving farming practices and human activity.  Of course not all of the practices and activities have benefited the landscape, farming expanded destructively through the 20th century, though I've definitely seen a huge increase in sympathetic farming and nature conservancy of the last 30 years. The hedged trackways and shaded paths, the copses and larger woods, the chalk grassland are all brimming with life, and the field boundaries too, are often now rough grass and wild flowers. All this landscape has been walked throughout those millennia by those doing the shaping too. So you're really walking in the footsteps of our ancestors. Connected walking sparks your imagination, and mine soars when plugged into the land. Our walk today was just over 10 miles, and very nice it was too.

Waste or what?

I was really surprised to see so much grain left behind after a local field of wheat had been harvested, the field was covered in it. I wondered whether this was normal or whether it was a result of the weather or maybe it had just failed in some way. This can't be normal can it? It would surely be too wasteful to produce grain like this. I mean, it really was quite a sight, I searched my memory and couldn't remember seeing this before. No. Then I wondered, is this a climate change thing? Well, you don't know, do you. I'll ask a farmer if I get the opportunity.

Fun filled field

Fun was had in the field this morning.

Back to the Chase

Our Walk through Cranborne Chase today, looked like this. From the top: we began our ramble early this morning taking the Ackling Dyke (Roman Road) through Knighton Wood, emerging on the ridgeway we followed the Romam Road through ripening fields of Barley, enjoying fabulous views along Croucheston Drove and into Croucheston Hollow, continuing on the Roman Road we descended into the Faulston Drove, with it's stunning view out over Throope Down, we chilled for a while by the cold clear River Ebble, before following the Ebble Valley with the high ridge towering above us to Broad Chalk, where we rose up to the ridgeway again via Church Bottom. Nine miles this morning of absolute perfection and back to the car before 10.00 and the heat of the day. Again, fabulous walking, and again, few folk about. A real tonic body and soul.

Apples

The Common's apple trees are all doing well this year, their boughs are beginning to bow under the weight of their developing fruits. 

Use the force

Use the force Luke! At present walking some of the common's smaller paths requires belief that they're actually there as evidence of their presence is currently absent, as the common, currently swamped in over head high bracken and willow herb, makes their existence impossible to ascertain. When the common's like this I feel my inner child awaken, memories of summer camps, of secret pathways and games played amongst a temporary world of green.

Meadow Sweet

Covid, it's associated effects and consequences on aspects across society served to accelerate my already reawakened interest into the medical attributes of wild plants. Wild plants, and particularly herbalism, was something a group of friends and I were right into back in the late 80's early 90's; later it became the focus of my under graduate dissertation whilst studying for my degree. I never really abandoned my interest, although life and stuff pushed it to the periphery, only coming into play here and there, or when asked advice about herbal remedies. Over the last couple of years it returned to the fore with the potential social degradation and shortages threatened by a brexit; it was one thread of my preparation efforts.  I know, I sound like a loon, though I'm not (of course, that's what a loon would say). Though, I think there's growing evidence to suggest that our society and it's structures are buckling under an unprecedented combination of coalescing and possibly insurmountable problems; the climate crisis, an resurgence of  populist politicians too inept to govern (maybe purposely) and late stage capitalism's 24/7 imperative to consume ever decreasing and finite resources.  In the light of these potential and maybe existential risks I've been polishing up my survivalist skills, such as they are, just in case, in the hope they'd be of some use.   

So, in light of the above, #1 in my occasional and proposed ongoing overview of useful plants I give you......Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria). Meadowsweet is commonly found in damp areas all over Britain, in reality you'll often find it growing in the most niche of damp spots. It stands one to two meters tall, with a reddy stem, dark green leaves and incredibly tight clusters of abundant creamy-white strong sweet smelling flowers. As with so many wild plants it has myriad uses: Medicinally, the aids digestion, helpful in healing ulcers, treating heartburn, hyper-acidity, gastritis, and diarrhoea. It contains salicylic acid and so has excellent anti-inflammatory properties making it suitable for treating rheumatism, and unlike other sources of salicylic acid is gentle on the stomach. Meadowsweet also has immuno-modulatory properties, it's used to treat infections, chest complains such as bronchitis, fevers and colds. The parts used are the leaves and flowers, usually in tea form. Kitchen, traditionally meadowsweet  has been used to flavour beers, wines, meads and vinegars, the flowers added to jams and stewed fruits imbue a subtle almond flavour. Other uses, historically the whole plant was valued as a strewing herb for it's sweet smell, and a black dye can be obtained from it's roots.

River Test

The River Test, renowned as one of the finest lowland rivers in the country, a much famed chalk stream sporting an abundance and richness in flora and fauna unsurpassed in England.  Absolutely gorgeous, man. You really can't beat a chalk stream, the verdancy of their banks and the crystal clarity of their water make their appeal like no other.

Cherry Plum

A non native (Orig. South Eastern Europe/Western Asia) although long naturalised fruiting shrub the Cherry Plum (Prunus cerasifera) is 'fairly' common, although in my experience I've always found them in association with sites of 18th/19th century activity. There were several Cherry Plum growing along the tow path of the Romsey Barge Canal, along with a couple of apples (eaters) and of course plenty of the usual wild fruits/nut culprits, Blackberry, Sloe, Haw and hazel. I always feel the presence of semi wild fruit and domestic fruit in the mix at sites indicate human agency, that they didn't get here of their own accord. It's easy to forget how spoilt we are today with numerous shops and the wide scale availability of a broad range of food stuffs; it's hard for us to imagine what it would've been like back in the day. If you travelled up and down the canal networks, or travelled the green lanes or similar, it would've been to your advantage to cultivate fruity treats here and there along the way, cherry plums here, an apple tree there. It's also easy to forget how far removed we've become from our natural world compared to our forebears, even our quite recent ones. You know, if we think about it, we've seen the 'forgetting' for ourselves; when I was younger blackberry picking, or say, chestnut collecting, were established seasonal family activities, now though for the most part the fruits wither on the bush and nuts litter the woodland floor, with folk preferring to buy both from the food fortress. Strange days indeed, a sign of where we went wrong...maybe?

Romsey Barge Canal walk

Our car had it's MOT this morning in Romsey, which meant two and a half hours hanging about in another town, in another county; Romsey being about 45min drive away. Usually I'd do a trawl of the local charity shops and look around the Abbey, a magnificent edifice, although during this time of pandemic and social distancing, that was far less appealing. So, I decided instead to seek an alternative way to spend a couple of hours which didn't include increased fear, and upon checking out a map last night I discovered that Romsey had a canal, job done. I'd never imagined Romsey had a canal, apparently it was opened in 1794, and ran 22 miles from Andover to Southampton water (with the 2 mile section running north of Romsey being one of the few remaining sections); the canal's use was short lived closing by the mid 19th century, the spreading of the train network signalled the end for many of these smaller canals. The path of canal winds out of town through a corridor of green, but for the occasional sight of a house through the bordering woodland, you'd never know you were walking through an urban environment. The canal itself is a mix of narrow open water fringed with dense foliage, and long sections of open shallow water. On one side is an extensive wetland wildlife reserve (Fishlake Meadows) boasting a staggering number and diversity of wildlife (bird, mammal, insect and flora) beyond which the canal, by now fully choked with vegetation, continues through open countryside before just stopping, truncated by the A3057. The further along the old tow path I walked the fewer and fewer people I saw, until the last mile I walked in isolation, which was nice, even leaving me feeling at ease enough to sit a while, taking some time to breath and meditate. A really Lovely walk and a total surprise, if you're in the area and need to waste some time, I thoroughly recommend it.

Second cutting

Back at the beginning of May a lush and vibrant crop of grass for silage was harvested from these fields above Walkford Moor Copse. The grass grew back, though thinner, tougher and less verdant. Now this too was being cropped this morning. I got talking to the farmer and asked if this too was going to become silage, and learnt that it wasn't. No, this crop was grown for seed, seed that wouldn't be used on this farm either, rather passed on to other farmers...that's how it goes. So I learnt something new today, and gained more understanding of what I'm seeing, and the processes going on, in the fields. Walking away I realised I'd not why the seed went on to other farms, a question for another day, I'll have hypothesise until then.

Becton Bunny

Just beyond Barton on Sea, on the New Forest coast is Becton Bunny (bunny being the local name for a chine), a narrow valley carrying a small stream of the same name towards the sea.  The bit that people really know as the bunny though is the 400m before the sea, where as steep sided ravine it opens through the sandy cliffs. This section runs obliquely to the cliff creating a rather thin promontory, and the sandy/gravelly nature of the geology here makes that promontory susceptible to weathering. And, man, has it weathered in recent years. Coastal erosion has really taken it's toll, and once that promontory has gone I don't think the bunny will be a feature, or a feature of any substance, here for many more decades (the average rate at which the cliff retreats along this section of coastline is 1m per year); it'll become merely a scoop in the cliff line (like the nearby Taddiford Gap) and hollow in the coastline. Maybe then the stream will reach the beach as a waterfall, though maybe that'd cut a new ravine over time...time will tell. The stream itself isn't that long, maybe a mile and a half or so, originating just below New Milton. It's a nice spot.

The Chase

Our Walk through Cranborne Chase today, looked like this. From the top: through Stonedown Wood up on to the Ox Drove, across Woodminton Down and into the Ebble Valley, up Marlycombe Hill, through West Woodyates, With Penbury Hill on the horizon, and wispy clouds above. Eight miles of pure loveliness; we would've gone further, though even when we arrived at 08.00 it was hot and I knew it would become too hot for Geoff, and so I clipped here and there, taking some shorter or more direct routes; it was a good move too, as by mid morning it was scorching and all our water had already gone. Fabulous walking though, and again, few folk about, other than we walked through farms or hamlets.

Magic Bus, The Earth Years

All aboard! Devon's psychedelic dreamers Magic Bus have pulled into town bringing with them a brand new collection of their distinctively joyful psychotropic tunage. Continuing their unbroken run of excellence Magic Bus's brand spanking new release 'The Earth Years' is a wonderful tonic in these dire times; place the needle on the record and the dark clouds part, the sun shines through, and that's all in the front room of your mind! Apt really, as their splendid 'The Road to La Mezquita' (my favourite track, I love that 70's funky strut) talks of indoor travelling. It's been three years since the Totnes troubadours released an album (too long...boo!) in which time they've gone from strength to strength, recently touring with the fabulous Chris Robinson Band. I maybe sense subtle CRB influence on tracks like 'New Day', though for the most part the band have built on, and further developed, their own inimitable brand of lovely sun drenched progtastic psychedelia. The Magic Bus sound encapsulates and blends the best of the decade between 65' and 75' from both sides of the pond (though I'd say this side weighted), with all the chaff removed and well informed by the subsequent decades, these West country wizards consistently create aural magic which keeps an ember of the summer of love alive and carries it forward. Front man Paul Evens has a wonderful voice, so evocative of the 70's Canterbury scene, and Jay Darlington's delightful organ reinforces that 70's British vibe magnificently, echoes of Canterbury's finest 'Audience' pepper the album, I think that's also due, in part, to Terrance Waldstradt's stellar guitar; 'Squirrel' puts me in mind of that Canterbury scene sound, a wisp of Nektar flavoured prog too. You'll also hear the influence of cultural legends Gong on tracks like 'Barleycorn', well, you would though wouldn't you, the band all have long hair, and some even have beards! Don't misunderstand me, Magic Bus sound like Magic Bus, and for what they've sipped from the prog/psyche well, they've renewed, replenished and expanded that well's elixir ten fold with their offerings. Mention must also be given to the Stirling contributions of Connor Spring's perfectly pitched drumming, and the laid back bad-ass bass of Wihll Mellorz, whose work in the engine room ensures every track has oodles of groovy rhythm. Like all Magic Bus albums 'The Earth Years' is beautifully paced, a lovely journey to take, conjuring a feeling of Mmmmm throughout.  The album ends with the sublime 60's infused  'We are one', a wrapped in a blanket watching the sunset kind of a song, which has the uplifting lyric 'hope is coming', love 'em.....fecking hippies. This is the bands first release without the heavenly flute and backing vocals of Viv Goodwin, that, I miss; you know what it's like when a band you dig has a line up change. That aside, there's absolutely nothing not to like; no, not to love about this album. It's a beautiful thing in itself too, a nice heavy weight clean cut vinyl, packaged in a sturdy gate-fold sleeve, with the most gorgeous artwork by Martin Ross Butler, lovely colours, man. No, hang on! There is one thing not to like...it's not long enough, I usually have to play it through twice so more-ish is it. That's four top-drawer albums in a succession from Magic Bus. Bravo y'all! Check it out. Shit, check them all out! And, if you dig what you hear and really what to experience the pure joy of Magic Bus, when the 'Rona's' passed make sure to catch them perform live...deep joy!

Eric 44

Discovered this wartime graffiti at Steamer Point this morning, just in time I reckon, the bark's become powdery and is beginning to disintegrate, it wont be long before Eric 44 disappears from the record. I wonder who Eric was? During World War Two there were coastal batteries here, there were pillboxes along the foreshore, the USAAF were stationed nearby, and it was also the site of a secret radar and communications research facility, maybe that's how Eric found himself here, or maybe he was a passing soldier on his way to Europe?  

Writing this, 'Eric 44' seemed familiar, and on checking past posts I found I'd recorded and posted about 'Eric 44' at Steamer Point back in 2015. Now, here's a thing, it wasn't this graffiti, it was another 'Eric 44'. Looking closely though the style and form do suggest that it -could- be the same scribe for both pieces of graffiti. I thought, it could indicate that Eric was indeed stationed here, and maybe graffiti was his way of alleviating the boredom. As always with graffiti and my imagination, there's a lot of shifting assumption. My mission now is check all the suitable trees on the site to see if I can identify any more. You never know.

Beer and bread

We walked through acre upon acre of beer and bread on our wander this morning. Well, the genesis of beer and bread anyway. As we approach Lughnasadh (still a few weeks away) the landscape of this part of the Chase is taking on it's seasonal golden hue, at the moment it's a deep and rich colour, though as we getter closer it'll fade to a more sandy colour. The land above 'The Tarrants' is a patchwork of mainly cereal crops and pockets of woodland, it's rather pleasant walking, we did just shy of 10 miles this morning, and beyond farmers in distant tractors and the odd passing vehicle on the few road sections, we only saw two people.....nice.   

Septarian nodules

Exposed by the recent removal of sands and gravels by the sea, Septarian nodules originally eroded out of the green-blue Eocene period Barton Clays litter the intertidal of Naish Beach this morning.  Today's walk was an atmospheric one under moody skies, the sea was grey and foreboding, the tide was in, and again we had the narrow beach to ourselves.

Buff Tailed Bumblebee

We saw a few pairs of shagging Buff Tailed Bumblebees (Bombus terristris) on this morning's walk, it must be that time of the year. A couple of observations: the queen is a fair size bigger than the male/worker; they were exposed and vulnerable to predators, of which they have many, though so consumed in the moment they appeared to care not; and finally they were not at all phased by a giant voyeuristic ape and fascinated canine gawping at them. Credit to them, I'm sure I'd have been put off in their position.

Beach thief

The beach thief has struck again. The intertidal is a region in flux, this is no more apparent than along Naish beach. Since we walked here last week the face of the beach has changed from being a gently sloping profile, there's now a 0.3 to 0.5 meter step at the top of the beach. A huge amount of material, sand, clay and gravel has been excavated by the sea and transported by long shore drift further east. This is only temporary, mind, this cycle is perpetual, it wont be long before the beach is replenished and it's gently sloping profile restored. Then, it wont be long before it's scoured again, you get the picture. Further along the beach there's a finger of Barton clay now extending across the beach into the surf, there's been an isolated slippage creating an effect barrier to walkers unless the tide's out...which may account for there being no bugger down here, honestly, it was like a winter walk, not a soul about. Events like these are usually more, though not entirely, associated with the winter months, however these days 'usually' is becoming quite a redundant phrase in relation to natures moods.

Early Blackberries

An early showing for this most abundant of wild fruits. The humble Blackberry. First I've seen this season.

And did those feet?

And did those feet in ancient time, walk upon England's mountains green? You bet they did, and they left plenty of traces of their passing by too. England's quite small really, so it's no surprise that the landscape is so abundant in the relics of foregone times. Again today we found ourselves walking the rural byways of Dorset and as if to perfectly illustrate my opening statement, through time. We parked up at the Kingston Lacy end of the 700 tree Beech Avenue created in 1835; past the Bronze Age round barrows of King Down (above); on past a really rare Romano-British barrow (35m diameter and 6m high, surrounded by a partially filled ditch); on past the architecturally fantastic farm buildings of Hemsworth with it's origins in the 16th century; past the earthen remains of a an earlier medieval settlement, listed as Hemedeswordes in the Doomsday Book; past the site of a 4th Century Roman Villa famed for it's fine mosaics; past woodland hiding the foundations of wartime accommodation; across the World War Two airfield of Tarrant Rushton from where, on D-Day, the gliders took off for the famous attack on Pegasus Bridge, the first allied troop in occupied Europe; along the Ackling Dyke Roman Road; below the ramparts of the majestic Iron Age hillfort of the Durotriges, Badbury Rings; and finally back to where we began. And that doesn't take into account the history I don't know, or that which remains hidden. A real walk through time I'm sure you'd agree.    

We have a choice.

I love a bit of history me. History shines a light on the lives and times of our ancestors and illuminates the road which brought us to today. One thing you quickly realize is that people have changed little throughout thousands of years of human history, or rather, our desires, motivates and machinations have changed not one bit. I've long believed that if you brought a citizen of ancient Rome, or Athens, or Beijing, or Memphis, or wherever, equipped them with a universal translator, they'd quickly recognise what was going on today as the same as in their day. Another aspect of history, and a most important one in my opinion, is it can act like a map through life's cyclical minefields, and if studied will save us from having to relive our mistakes. Live and learn, rather than  repeat and repeat. And you don't have to travel back to ancient times for pearls of wisdom (although it is rich in them), often there's much to learn from the events of decades closer to our own, from the words of those who experienced them. 

Take 'Homage to Catalonia', Orwell's experiences of the 1930's Spanish Civil War. Reading 'Homage to Catalonia' you may glean some perspective and insight into the possible direction our current political dichotomy is travelling; and we have a choice, we can learn from what we read, and act on what we learn, and maybe avoid a similar fate, or of course repeat it. During the Spanish Civil War the Republican/Communist/Anarchist forces of the Left, fought endlessly amongst themselves, all the fractions vying for dominance, in the process they killed thousands of there own, their allies and the public. As a consequence of their in fighting they were militarily and politically weakened, as well as losing the hearts and minds of the people in their territories due to their abhorrent behaviours. I look at the left today and see striking similarities, and that makes me angry and sad in equal measure. Obviously not to the same extremes or the ideologically driven extra judicial killings, no, we're not barbarians, now we just label people then socially isolate them and destroy them, of course there are plenty of death threats too, though we tend overlook them when perpetrated by our own side. No, I was thinking more of the ideological battles, the divisory attitudes, the splintering, the witch hunts and purges, and the developing group think devoid of any space for nuance or difference, driven by the pursuit of some imaginary ideological purity, and that bullshit word 'wokeness'. A left too busy looking through their ideological milk bottle bottomed glasses, eager to look like everything to everybody, and in danger of becoming nothing to anybody; a left where too many people compete to tell each other/everybody how f*cking great they are, how virtuous and right on their lives; and a left too easily distracted by pointless and strategically bankrupt 'stunts' to recognise that they're manifestly failing to properly address the fundamental issue of structural inequalities....our real objective, being a key to a better everything. A left that hands PR opportunities to our enemies, not once, but again and again, doing the enemies work for them, making it too too easy; a left that's in real danger of disappearing up it's own arse...whilst applauding itself. It's ugly, man, ugly and counterproductive. Most of the time I don't recognise my own ideological home, and more worrying than my sensibilities, is it's increasingly not carrying enough people along with it to be a genuinely effective vehicle for real positive change. I'm just so frustrated and disappointed, man, every day I grow more convinced that we wont see positive change in our lifetime. Why? Because we're stupid. For goodness sake, take a look at history, look at the Spanish Civil War as an example (there are plenty of others too), see what happens when a fragmented left doesn't carry the people with it..............the Nationalists win.

Old straight track

Bridleway you say? If you're an elf riding a stoat, maybe. This section of the old Roman road, Ackling Dyke, just north of Badbury Rings, is tightly flanked by thick towering country hedge, making the already slim path, very narrow indeed. It felt akin to being in a maze, just a long unimaginative straight maze; The Ackling Dyke runs across the softly rolling chalk farmland like this for about half a mile. It's a long time since I've walked these tracks, not since Norris got too old to walk them, 5 or so years ago. I like this landscape, although predominantly farmland there's diversity too, and a lot lies hidden too, less walked tracks to find, secluded spots and views are just amazing. Obviously, this shot doesn't show those views to their best. 

Nuts

Along the hedgerows, through the coppices and in my back garden, hazelnuts are forming. Last year was a real bumper year; I wonder how we'll fare this season. 

Solitude

The beach was ours this morning.

Coastal defence

Wooden framework amongst the 'rock armour' at the base of the Barton slips.

Resistance is futile

The cliffs below Barton look like a battleground, all disturbed soil, exposed pipework, twisted and broken steel sheet pile. What your looking at is a war as old as us, a war waged between man and nature, and a war we're most definitely going to lose. The geology along this stretch of the coast lends itself to slippage, it's all marine clays and sands, topped with gravels, lateral slippage is inevitable. By the 1960's erosion was increasingly threatening/destroying property, and a massive civil engineering project was undertaken to stabilize the cliffs.  It never really worked. Well, it did to a degree, though slippages still occurred, they were less severe. A sort of temporary stalemate was achieved. That changed at the beginning of this century as over a few years the cliffs saw a number of destructive landslides and creeping slippages. It's appeared relatively quiet over the past few years, relatively. I often wonder when traversing this chaotic landscape, what the plan will be when the cliffs start moving with purpose again. Because they will. Same old battle? Or will we concede to the inevitable and retreat from the cliff top. 

Summer Solstice

The Rolling Stones sung 'You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you find, you get what you need', word, man! I would've liked a radiant orange sun majestically rising above the horizon this morning, I didn't get that, no, not in the slightest. What I did get though was a thoroughly uplifting spiritual experience, and that was just what I needed.

It was still dark when we arrived at the bridleway leading up towards Badbury Rings, it was raining from a cloud obscured sky, with about half an hour from sunrise. A large multivallate hillfort of three encircling ramparts and accompanying ditches on the edge of Cranborne Chase, Badbury's got a quiet magnificence about it. Badbury doesn't look all that impressive as you approach it, it's very understated, not until you're standing on the upper rampart does the real extent of the site's grandeur manifest; both the site itself and the spectacular views it commands. As we arrived at the eastern entrance the rain abated, bidding 'hail and well met' we made our way through the outer defences, climbed the highest inner rampart and prepared to welcome sunrise. Wood smoke carried on the air from the fire of a small group camped just inside the hillfort; the fire's smoke acted as a pleasant incense. I know many people are against wild camping in general and at sites like Badbury in particular. For me it's all about the respect shown, as long as you camp with respect, leaving as little sign of your presence as possible, I don't see the problem. Archaeologist me believes that if there's the desire and it's undertaken with due respect, our ancient sites should be used and they don't have to only exist in the past, frozen, activity adds patina to the archaeological record, continuing the site's story. It wasn't long before the moment of sunrise arrived, although that moment wasn't apparent without a clock to inform me.  I breathed, centred, ran through some Awens, spent some time in thought, recited the Druids prayer and finally a adapted Druid's vow (The Druid's vow goes thus ''We swear, by peace and love to stand, heart to heart and hand in hand. Mark, oh spirits and hear us now, confirming this, our sacred vow.'', I'd seen Rollo Maughfling  suggesting a change in light of our current restraints, and it seemed to make sense, changing 'hand in hand' to 'mind to mind'). It'd stopped raining by now, and for a while I simply stood, taking in the sights, sounds and feeling of the unfolding day.

As I've already said, it was just what I needed, I felt lighter as we turned for home. Geoff and I made our way down from the high ramparts by undertaking a full circuit of each ring, until we'd spiralled around the hillfort, after a more than 2 mile walk we returned to stand where we'd begun just before dawn, a bid 'hail and farewell' and back down the bridleway. A magical solstice morning. Of course, by the time we'd returned home the sun was beaming; bless her, nature has a sense of humour.

Solstice blessings y'all /|\

Reign's end

The Oak King's reign reaches an end as the Holly King takes the throne. He's reigned through tumultuous days this cycle, we're grateful for his strength. Hail and farewell. And hail and welcome the Holly King, may his reign be sweeter.  Solstice blessings y'all.

The wheel turns

The restrictions of lockdown have had me taking more local walks, which has allowed me to experience the wheel turning far more keenly. Watching the landscape subtly change day by day has been both grounding and illuminating in equal measure.

Lotty

The lotty's coming on nicely; the fruits  of the Goddess and the Green Man's beltane activities are becoming apparent. In the ground (so far) we've got runners, courgettes, tatties, onions, shallots, cabbage, black kale, curly kale, purple sprouting broccoli, calabrese broccoli, leeks and parsnips; in the greenhouse we've tomatoes, cucumber, peppers, chilli peppers; and in the fruit cage we've got strawberries, raspberries, gooseberrys (green and red), blueberries, rhubarb, and blackcurrants.  We've been collecting rhubarb for months, though now we're collecting strawberries, raspberries and gooseberrys too, as well as our first courgette, and the tomatoes wont be too long. Nice.

By bracken and bramble

It's been a bumper season for bracken and bramble, and they're nowhere done yet. Already the common's beginning to choke with them, waist, even shoulder high in places, their uncompromising march is really quite impressive. Brambles are incredibly important, providing as they do food and shelter to countless insects, birds and mammals; and bracken used to be such a valued resource that it's collection was strictly regulated. It's the time of year when the common's paths are narrowing and the lesser will become impassible without intervention. So it's that time of year when I carry secateurs on my walks.

Heath Spotted Orchid

Heath Spotted Orchid's (Dactylorhiza maculata) were a common sight on our this morning whenever we moved beyond the wood's edge. Which was nice to see.

Burley Old

It's been a few weeks since we've managed to get out into the forest, and it felt wonderful to be out amongst the stands this morning. A real tonic. It was tonally flat out and periodically light rains fell, with the sky threatening more, though it doesn't matter how dull the day, the magic of the forest always shines through. The forest evokes a particular magic. I think it's a very personal magic, born of innumerable moments of connection, of experiences and of memories; the forest is an emotional repository, in more than one meaning, also being replete in natural resource (spiritual and material). As we walked I tried to breath as deeply as I could, I was trying to turn our wander into a sort of walking meditation, which I feel was to a degree a success, which was nice. It felt like breathing in the forest, and that felt clean and cool, refreshing and awakening. It was 0730 and everything was still quite, but for the woodland's inhabitants. Wonderful. Stood here surrounded by all this natural magnificence you're aware of an ethereal forest just beyond your grasp, it's one the forests inhabitants access, one I believe our ancestors who'd yet to disconnect accessed, and one we can work towards accessing. A work in progress.

The Death Valley Girls 'Breakthrough' 7'' Vinyl release

The Death Valley Girls have released the first new material since their outstanding 2018 album Darkness Rains, it's a new single, and it's most excellent.  A tasty bi-coloured purple/black 7'' of covers. The A side's an interpretation of Atomic Roosters 1971 'Breakthrough' and on the B side a version of Daniel Johnston's Rock 'n' Roll/EGA.

Their take on Breakthrough is awesome, they've captured the original though definitely added something, it maintains a 70's flavour, though where as the original has a more 60's hangover/early proggy feel; the Death Valley Girls version has a more earthy late glam rock early proto punk feel to it, a touch of subtle menace too, nice. It starts off real slow, even making you wonder whether you've got it on the wrong speed, a repetitive organ chord leads, the drums then announce their presence and boom, in kicks the beat followed by a lovely driving riff, and then the final ingredient, Bonnie's wonderful vocals, I love that voice, at some points appropriately reminiscent of Jett or Quatro. They've more than done this Atomic Rooster track justice. And hey, in these dark times we could do with a breakthrough.

Rock 'n' Roll/EGA is off Daniel Johnson's 1994 album 'Fun'. I'll be honest now, I don't think I've ever heard of Daniel Johnston, so I gave his Rock 'n' Roll/EGA a listen before listening to the Death Valley Girls interpretation.  There are no doubt some similarities between them, I then discovered that the Death Valley Girls gigged with Johnson for a period, that explains that. Again though, Death Valley Girls have washed the track in their own distinctive wash, it's a touch faster, a touch edgier and heavier in a different way to the original, and again it has that 70's glam rock stomp feel to it. Bonnie's voice is perfect for this track too, beautifully reflecting Johnson's original. A really lovely rendition.

Being accomplished musicians (as is manifestly shown by their individual performances) together they create a well crafted and distinctive wall of sound; the Death Valley Girls sound is simultaneously beautifully produced and engagingly raw, I love that, I love a 'real' sound and they've got that by the spade. Check out their chorus harmonies too, groovy. Both these covers do their original sources justice and both go further, ensuring your reaction to both will be ''this is fricking ace!'' And I'll say it again, you've got to love Bonnie's vocals, there's just something so appealing about them, she's a very cool voice. This is, they are, recommended listening, check it out here or here if you're in the UK.