West Kennet Barrow

A trip to Avebury isn't complete without a visit to West Kennet Long barrow; prominently sited in the landscape it's the Neolithic equivalent of 'get orf  moi land'. Of all the sites in the Avebury complex it's always been West Kennet that's most captured my imagination.

 

Avebury beeches

Avebury beeches

Dear the future

Many of the cracks, crevices and holes in the majestic standing stones of Avebury's main circle have offering of one kind or another deposited in them; above is a note found stuffed into one such hole. Now I'm a big fan of the place, but easy now, that's strong stuff.

Avebury henge

Through the 90's and 00's we'd be regular visitors to Avebury Henge and it's environs, either for the regular Gorsedds which accompanied the turning of the wheel of the year, or simply to take in the majesty and splendour of it all; it's a landscape which fed my archaeological imagination, and continues to do so as new research brings the depth and complexity of this prehistoric monument and it's surroundings to  light. That said, what with one thing and another this was the first time we'd visited for well over a decade, and we'd picked a perfect day for our visit too, beautiful weather and very few other visitors. The best part though was being here with an old friend which allowed the memories to flow, as we both reminded each other of myriad people and event, and there were some good times and some very memorable characters; an opportunity to rifle through a treasure trove of moments. As for the henge itself, as always, a magnificent site that never fails to inspire awe and wonder; in my opinion Avebury surpasses Stonehenge on every level.

Joan Russell

As I made my way up Bidcombe Hill I noticed what looked from a distance like remnants of a military structure or some such; I was mistaken though, it's a substantial block of shaped quarried stone. Facing the rising sun on the cleanly finished east facing surface is inscribed 'Joan Russell 1927 - 2003' underneath which 'Bernard Russell 1924 - 2011'. I had no idea who Joan and Bernard where, and after searching the internet I still don't; the block is on a list of public art as a 'Memorial and sculpture', although no further information is included; it's recorded on other sites such as Geograph too, although again, no detail is included. A mystery memorial it is then. Nice spot though, and I'd bet a lovely place to watch the sunrise.

Bidcombe Hill

Again I unexpectedly found myself out and about with several hours to pass; this time in Southwest Wiltshire. What to do on an exceptionally hot and sunny day I thought, I know, I'll get closer to the sun by walking up onto one of the exposed chalk grassland hills of the region; common sense sometimes eludes me. I don't know this area, though the highest point close to where I was Bidcombe Hill; the obvious choice then. Cold Kitchen Hill, Whitecliff Down and Brims Down form a bowed ridge with Bidcombe Hill as it's highest point at 297m. Once up there the high downs afford stunning views in all directions across the rolling Wiltshire countryside; making a heavy 8 mile walk (and blimey was it hot, little to no breeze either), well worthwhile. I'm always grateful for the opportunity to walk somewhere totally new; the elation of experiencing a landscape and it's vistas for the first time, there's a unique magic to those walks.   

The Ox Drove

How many feet have passed this way over the last, say, 5000 years. There's something wonderfully connective about walking these ancient tracks, you're connected with the landscape and connected to our collective ancestors. Sometimes the path well trodden has as much value to it as the path less trodden.

Views from the Old Shaftesbury Drove

Took the opportunity to walk out in the Chase this afternoon, and what wonderful walking it was. The views from the Old Shaftesbury Drove, looking north towards the hinterland of Wiltshire and south towards the Ox Drove ridge, from which you can see clear across Dorset to the Isle of Wight and the Channel. Today was my first walk of the year without a hoodie or coat, and as lovely as it was (and it was), it's not right, not so early into February, really I should be hunkered under layers. 

A 'unessesaryily' long and winding road

It's an important day, so I'm up at 0500 this morning, it's the winter solstice. Every winter solstice I go somewhere to mark the occasion, I say 'somewhere', for 20 years there'd be only one place I'd be and that was at the 'Henge', though disgruntled with this and that, for the last few years I've sought over places to mark the new sun. Today though I felt compelled to return to Stonehenge to celebrate. We used to park on the nearby drove or a ways off and walk, though Wiltshire Council/English Heritage have put Temporarily Traffic Restricts on several of the rights of way in affect closing them to all vehicles, pedestrians and equestrians. So with my options limited, I reluctantly decided I had little choice other than the visitor centre car park. Reluctantly, as I take affront at having to pay, effectively, pay to pray. Anyway. The roads where clear as I drove through a moonlit landscape, English Heritage's open access notice had said the car parks wouldn't be open until 0600, and not to get there before. It was 0610 when approached 'Druid's Lodge' roundabout, and with only half a mile to the visitors centre I thought I was good for time. That feeling quickly evaporated as I saw the traffic chaos at the roundabout, the bumper to bumper headlights led off into the distance along the A303, and everything from every direction was stationary.  All the approaches to the visitor centre were gridlocked. By 0700 I was approaching the the visitor centre car park, still plenty of time to walk the mile or so to the stones. No, I was directed on to the overflow car park and park and ride. Now ahead of me was an endless cue of tail lights. What a massive bummer, man. Time to sunrise shortened. By the time I reached the overflow car park the full sign was up, and bizarrely, we were directed back to the main car park. It was too late anyway, it was 0740, and even if I'd got a parking space, which is a mahousive if, I'd never have made the stones. What an omni-shambles, though it didn't have to be so. For years we've used the droves, there's something quite magical about spending the night around a fire on the drove, so near to the ritual site, something timeless, as those who built the site would have done. It worked too, people arrived at staggered times, people could walk, more than that a community formed which congregated at the allotted times, meeting, feasting, drinking, partying, as we know was the case during the sites construction and use. The archaeologist in me loves that continuity, though EH doesn't and works hard at making it as difficult as possible, part of a cynical move to deny any access the landscape other than through their expensive controlled route. As it happens, the Temporarily Traffic Restricts had been quashed on the 21st of December, though the prohibitions had not been lifted, so we'll see what happens at the Spring Equinox.  Anyway, as I said, it was 0740 by now and I turned for home, I stopped briefly near Woodhenge to asked some coppers if they'd pass on complaints, they said they would, they weren't happy with the chaos either, and nodded in wry agreement with my cynical opinions on EH's motivations. Then I made my way to Old Sarum, and climbed the ancient ramparts to greet the new born sun. I was disappointed, though consoled myself it that it wasn't getting to the henge which was important, more the intention, that I'd got up and travelled, marked the day, observed the sunrise. The henge would have been a bonus. Spring Equinox it is then, an overnighter, weather (and droves open) permitting. 

Berry good

If you're of the school of thought or tradition that says, berries (sloe, hip, haw and so forth) should be, or are best, picked after the first proper frost, then now's your chance.  Frost still clings in the shadows this morning, puddles have opaque crusts and the shrubs are laden with useful fruits. Come fill your boots!

Ebble

There's nothing like a chalk stream, crystal clear waters which are always refreshingly cold and teaming with life.  The river Ebble is one such stream. Running through the Chalk Valley, the Ebble's always a pleasure to stroll along, its banks as filled life as its waters.

Breamore landscape

I've always been a big fan of artist and archaeologist (amongst many other things) Heyward Sumner, whose artwork captures the essence of our English rural landscape so very beautifully. And, today I was literally walking in Sumner country, the open chalk landscape between Fordingbridge (Sumner lived in South Gorley near Fordingbridge from 1904 to 1940) and Salisbury, specifically the area around Breamore House. Sumner knew this region well, living in it, walking it and exploring it, recording the archaeological landscapes of both the New Forest and Cranborne Chase. Two of the landscapes I particularly love to walk and myself know quite well (big headed, I know). Walking the land behind Breamore is like walking through a carousel of Sumner illustrations. And what strikes me, is how little the regions landscape appears to have changed since Sumner's time.  Take this photo which looks down a well worn drove, Sumner would most certainly have known and walked, up to Clearbury Rings (Iron Age Hillfort) or as Sumner knew it Claybury Ring, a landmark he illustrated. I reckon he'd as easily recognize all his old haunts, just as easily I recognize the landscapes he drew and painted.

Elderflowers

Throughout the hedgerows and shrubby woodland clumps indicative of the chalk downland of southern Wiltshire, Elder's are coming into bloom, and it's wonderful. Is there anything more evocative of summers arrival than the pungent aroma and creamy white flower clusters of the Elderflower (Sambucus nigra). I think not.

Cranborne

Walking through Cranborne can feel like walking back through time, it wouldn't surprise you if a horse drawn haywain or pre-war tractor appeared around the corner of a hedgerow or emerged from a sunken drove. There's something timeless and ancient about the land. I think it's that it embodies every aspect of what we traditionally define as the English rural landscape; sweeping grassland escarpments dotted with sheep, hidden wooded valleys brimming with game birds, ploughed fields, thick hedgerows, sunken tree lined droves and deer silhouetted on the horizon. The heavily carved ancient beech which line the Faulston drove as it climbs out Bishopstone and the Ebble Valley confirm reinforce the idea of this being old land. Graffiti on the trees celebrate loves, holiday visits and all manner of life's events and memories, as well as historic events, the silver jubilee of George the 5th and the sinking of the Lusitania in 1915, right up to more recent scribblings. This landscape has seen life in all it's shades. The drove itself will be of ancient date, nearby medieval strip lytchets and even older field systems can still be seen, as can the even older barrows, long and round, which hold the remains of the oldest inhabitants of this place. Like I say, a timeless and ancient land where if you look you can glimpse history.

Crocus

Crocuses are a lovely sight in burgeoning spring, especially when they present themselves in numbers. Soon though the grassland of the chase will be flushed with yellow as the Primroses and especially the Cowslips bloom. Now, that really is something to behold, acre upon acre of flowers. Far out.

Vernditch stands

Vernditch Chase beech stands, a naked army ready for action.

Wooded paths

Although often shown on maps as merely footpaths along the edges of fields, you find many paths about Cranborne Chase are much more.  Many of them are paths running through slithers of, a sort of, woodland, 6m to 8m wide, though in nature not so much woodland, the flora they contain make them more like hedgerows on steroids. During the summer months they afford you welcome shade in the more open and exposed parts of the Chase landscape. In windy weather the debris that frequently litters their floors brings the fear. Though whenever you walk them they've always a magical aspect to them, as if you're walking old lines. I'd imagine they're busy nocturnal highways too.

Cursus's end

The Dorset Cursus would have been a magnificent monument and expansive feature in the Neolithic landscape. Comprising of two joined sections, the Cursus is a linear feature of two parallel banks and ditches running for 10 km north east/south west across the undulating north Dorset landscape. For the most part nothing of this vast monument remains visible above ground. Though some of the associated features still remain visible. The earliest of these features are the Long Barrows, the focus of collect burial, these monuments pre-date or are contemporary with the Cursus, with one being incorporated in the bank. At the north eastern terminus of the Cursus are several Long Barrows, a couple of which are tree crowned, and when approached from the right direction create a striking silhouette on the rise. I love walking these archaeologically rich landscapes, and they don't come much richer than Cranborne; although the Cursus and Long Barrows are Neolithic, all the ages are represented. Bronze Age Barrows, earthworks and enclosures, Iron Age settlements and earthworks, a Roman road, right up to the mid 20th century military firing ranges, and evidence of the hunting and farming practices in-between. Fantastic. I really feel I'm walking in footsteps of the ancestors, in their landscapes, their monuments and activities come to life in my minds eye.

Return to Cranborne

It's been a few months since I walked over Cranborne way, and I couldn't have chosen a better day for my return.  Weather wise, it was my favourite type of winters day; the sky was clear, but for well spaced blobs of candy-floss cloud, which allowed the sun to show off it's growing strength, and the air was suitably chill, chill to the point where you could really feel it going down. Lovely. I approached Martin Down from the hamlet of Martin, I love the view or the chalk grassland as it rises up from this direction. Reaching the top of Martin Down's rough grassland, I could see the world of the Chase laid out before me, it's a splendid tapestry of mixed farmland with broad hedge lines, chalk downland and pockets of woodland. And it feels timeless. Criss crossed with rights of way, it's a landscape of boundless walking opportunities, and always the possibility of the surprising. 

Winkelbury

Winkelbury Hillfort is a simple univallate fort situated on a high spur jutting out from Cranborne Chase's chalk hills above the village of Berwick St John. It looks to me as if was never finished (it's not unknown).  The ramparts and ditches are fairly well defined on the hill end of the spur, where an unusual 2 entrance affair is going on, though even here both are unsubstantial really. Whereas the further out along the spur you go, the patchier the rampart and ditch becomes, being hardly noticeable in places. The also appears another fainter, and very ephemeral, bank and ditch crossing the enclosed area, maybe evidence for a smaller fort first being marked out before being enlarged. The site has a pleasant vibe to it, especially in the sun. An the views! Man! Positioned as it is sticking right out from a long snaking escarpment, the views, both east and west are spectacular. Staring out, picking up the details in the undulating landscape, you loose yourself in fantasy imaginings. I experience the deceleration of time until it goes in reverse, as I imagine the hedgerows returned to break up the the large fields, see the tracts of woodland expand, and peel back the layers of time to wonder what this landscape looked like in centuries past.  Still, I can't hang about much longer as it's off to the local metropolis of Shaftesbury for a gig.