Lineage in the landscape

Landscape tells the story of our collective journey through the ages via a myriad of individual stories played out and memorialised on it's surface. And it's everywhere. This morning birds flocked fresh furrows as a farmer tilled his field to a fine tilth; the crest of the field is crowned by two fine large Bronze Age round barrows, even after 4000 years of weathering remaining striking features in the terrain. As we passed below the field the fresh furrows channelled my view directly towards a barrow, highlighting a direct linage in the landscape. These barrows were put here by successful farming communities; settled farming communities that even by the Bronze Age had worked these fertile soils for 2000 years (older Neolithic long barrows are commonplace in these parts). That's 6000 years of uninterrupted farming so far....and counting. I thought, if you could raise one of these ancient farmers, once you'd stopped them freaking out, they'd understand exactly what was going on, they'd recognise farming as the fundamentals have changed little. Cool, eh. 

Separately, as we returned home listening to the radio, blah blah climate crisis, financial crisis, corona crisis, death doom blah blah and so on, just for a moment I was in the opening sequence of one of those epic apocalyptic disaster movies. Strange days.

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.

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.

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.   

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.

Minor voyages of rediscovery

Watering and weeding are daily jobs at this time of year and I've been undertaking increasing convoluted cycles to the allotment to ward off the boredom of the short urban rides there and back, and to rebuild my cycling capacity. The rides aren't that long, 14/15 mile round trip, but each has been minor voyage of rediscovery. I used to regularly walk and ride the network of paths, tracks and back roads that criss cross the Avon Valley. I used to know all it's hidden ways and how they all connected, although I've not traversed them for maybe 15 years. Their rediscovery has been a real joy, some have changed nought, whilst others are like different tracks having been renewed and restored; and since we suffered months of flooding a few years back all the ditches and small streams have been cleared too.  Taking the bore or my chore.