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.