Badbury Rings

 

Geoff and I enjoyed a fabulous walk around Badbury Rings this morning. What a spectacular hillfort this is, you don't imagine it to be as prominent a natural feature as it is, although once you're up there the views over the Dorset landscape are as impressive as they are expansive. 

Sun through High Wood

Sun through High Wood

Golden

A Golden Retriever immersed in a golden dawn; Geoff takes in the sunrise as we approach the exit the lower defencive ditch after spiralling around the hillfort's defences from top rampart to lowest ditch.

Dawn mist

 

As the sun rose so did the dawn mists and 30 minutes after I'd taken the photo of the Solstice sun rising, I took this photo above. A dramatic transformation, swift too. Where we'd enjoyed expansive vistas across the Dorset landscape, now we could barely see the adjacent ramparts and the Solstice Sun looked more akin to a bright full moon. Then just as swiftly 30 minutes later again, the mist had completely evaporated and disappeared to reveal a glorious morning and the magnificent surrounding landscape. Added a certain magic to an already outstanding Solstice.

Rise and shine

Badbury Rings, a venerable Iron Age citadel of the Durotriges, the 'Celtic' tribe of our region; and the perfect place to welcome in the Summer Solstice sunrise. Parking off the Beech lined Blandford Road we followed a track up towards Badbury as the eastward horizon took on a subtle peach hue. The sun was coming. Scaling the inner rampart, the highest one, we took up a familiar position, one we'd occupied several times previously; we weren't alone, around the ramparts a number of people were waiting for the Sun to rise too. I took time to ground myself, to focus on my breathing, as I cleared my mind and shifted my inner focus from the mundane to the significance of the moment. The Oak King's time has come, the land is burgeoning, the Goddess is flourishing, and the Horned God's work is done; the Holly King now takes the throne and oversees our slow return towards darkness. I seem always to be taken by surprise at the speed at which the sun breaks cover, and marvelled at it's ascent. Nearby a group of women began to chant, allowing me to run some Awens without feeling too self conscious; I drank in the atmosphere. What a sensational Solstice sunrise.  Solstice blessings y'all /|\

Badbury Rings

Locally we're blessed with numerous Iron Age hillforts, many of them notable examples of their type. Badbury Rings is one of them, an exceptional site in fact. The site has been the focus of human activity for over 4000 years; beyond the Iron Age hillfort itself you've a scatter of Bronze Age barrows, a confluence of Roman roads, a Romano-British temple, a nearby Roman-British town, a post Roman stronghold, a suggested site of the fabled battle of Mount Badon, the meeting place of The Clubmen in 1645 during the Civil War and the site of a large transmitter mast in World War Two; today though it's a quiet romantic spot, a jewel in the rolling Dorset landscape, and a haven for wild flora and fauna. Well worth a visit.

Pyramidal Orchid

Either standing alone or in diffuse clusters, Pyramidal orchids (Anacamptis pyramidalis) are a common sight throughout the rough chalk grassland at this time of year. A beauty to behold.

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.

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.    

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. 

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 /|\

Pyramidal Orchid

Now there's a thing I wasn't expecting to to see today, a Pyramidal Orchid (Anacamptis pyramidalis), beautiful. We were on our way to the lotty when I spied this solitary orchid in a spot I'd never seen them previously, uncharacteristiclly in a rather shady spot too.  I'd usually have been keeping my eye out for the orchids we'd see across the varied landscapes we roam, of course, not this year. So this was a lovely thing to see, a welcome treat. We're blessed with a wide range of orchids around the places we visit, in fact some rather rare ones. I'm hoping to go watch the Summer Solstice sun rise from Badbury Rings, which is always particularly abundant, both in variety and quantity...hoping.

Badbury orchids

It wasn't just a wonderful sunrise which was on show at Badbury Rings this morning, the ramparts were thronged with orchids. Man, there were just so many of them, it was a wonder. Not just in numbers either, on the cursory observations of an untrained eye, I saw five different types. From top down: Common spotted Orchid (Dactylorhiza fuchsii), Butterfly Orchid (Platanthera chlorantha), Bee Orchid (Ophrys apifera), Common Twayblade Orchid (Neottia ovata), Pyramidal Orchid (Anacamptis pyramidalis). How bloody marvellous is that!  Proportionally the Common Spotted was indeed the most common, then a ways off was the Pyramidal, then way way down in numbers was the Butterfly, with only a handful of Bee and Twayblade; as I said though, I only made a cursory observation, being blown away by the spectacle of it all.

Badbury solstice

I'd pondered over the last few days as to where to watch the sunrise this summer solstice. I wanted to take Geoff for his first sunrise, and I fancied going for a dawn walk too; so didn't fancy the palaver of a site with lots of people where Geoff would certainly get too excited, nor any site that may restrict exploration or necessitate driving too far. Badbury Rings came to mind as the perfect choice, in a perfect wandering landscape, and that it was.  The sky was lightening quickly as we made our way up a drove towards the deep ditches and huge ramparts of Badbury's Iron Age defences, as we were serenaded all the way by an very vocal pre-dawn chorus. Geoff was loving the early morning country smells, I knew he would. Just being out here this early in the morning, the day yet properly birthed, is a magical experience in itself, prompting that perennial thought 'I should do this more often'.  Of course, the chances are the next time I'll be up this early and thinking this thought wont be until lughnasadh. Still, the intentions there. Reaching the ramparts I could see a scattering of like minded folk had already taken their positions, we exchanged solstice blessings as we passed, before finding a suitable spot and waiting in meditative peace for Bel. Mists hanging in the pre-dawn Allen Valley only added to the magic of the moment, as slowly an orange hue developed on the horizon, then on cue Bel showed his face. It was beautiful, man, a perfect sunrise, and I felt my spirit lift; if there's one thing we all need, it's to have our spirits lifted and our life affirmed more often.  It's quite a thing to see the sun come up, you don't imagine it would rise so quickly, though it really does. Before long the hillfort and its surrounding landscape were bathed in glorious golden sun light, the longest day was here, and it shone brightly, casting long shadows through the hillfort's tree filled interior. Walking around the rings we enjoyed a continuous panorama over the patchwork landscape of rural Dorset, with the Chase to the north and the Purbeck coast to the South, and it all shimmered with life. Our world is a wonder. Solstice blessing y'all beautiful people.

Tree prison

It's not right. They're all forced to stand in lines in the tree prison.

Badbury

We made our way up towards the hilltop along a colourfully lined drove, all the colours of autumns palette were represented in the tight hedges that channelled us toward our destination. The multivated hilltop and former stronghold of the Durotriges of Badbury Rings is still this morning, not even the sheep huddling around the trees who now hold tenure of the defended hill were stirring. It was lovely.

More ''44''

I do like a nice piece of graffiti, and have a particular fondness for war period graffiti, especially American, so far from home, and all that.  I came a cross two examples today whilst walking one side of the Beech avenue which runs past Badbury Rings, one merely said 'USA' and then this one USA ''44''. If there's a date ascribed to American wartime graffiti I've come across it'll always be ''44''. The American army first arrived in 1942, though it was late 1943 into early 1944 that huge numbers massed in preparation for DDay.  Dorset having two embarkation harbours, one being Weymouth, where the Americans embarked for Omaha Beach saw huge numbers pass through in early 1944. Was the scribe in this case one of those who crashed on to 'Bloody Omaha', and did he survive the war? Did he return home with fond memories of the England he visited?

Badbury Rings

The magnificent ancient earthen edifice of Badbury Rings Iron Age Hillfort.

Badbury sundown

A Ribwort Plantain (Plantago lanceolata) flowering on the uppermost hillfort rampart is silhouetted in front of the sinking Sun. It doesn't matter at which scale you look at nature, from the immense to the microscopic, it's saturated with beauty. 

Slow worm

Slow worm? I wonder how they got that name, as when they see you that can't half move. This time of year your senses are alert to signs of slithering, what with it being Adder season. This little fellow was an unusual find for me. I frequently come across Slow Worms, though usually they have bits missing, this little had a complete tail.