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.

Chewton Bunny

Walkford Brook runs through Chewton Bunny as it nears the sea. A New Forest stream which once served as a moonlit route for smugglers up to the forest plains to their contraband stashes and distribution points. I wonder if brexit will see a return to the days of the smuggler?

Chewton's secrets

Over the years Chewton Common has become fragmented, reduced in scale by successive housing developments, today it remains as various sized and shaped pockets of dispersed common. All these pocket have an official path(s) crossing them, though these paths don't really allow you to appreciate the natural worlds your walking through, to do that you have to follow the folk paths created by.... local folk. When you leave the official path you realize that the common is not homogeneous (something you could do if you stayed on track), it's rather a diverse patchwork of different environments, heath, grassland woodland (deciduous and coniferous) and where streams flow, fingers of wetland. Put some headphones on to block the sounds of man and modernity, and it's easy to imagine yourself walking outside of the urban sprawl.  So lucky to have these natural boltholes literally on my doorstep.

Smeared cloud

The cloud appeared smeared across an azure canvas this morning.

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.

Oxygen by Custard Flux

Psychedelic multi-instrumentalist, artist and The Luck of Eden Hall's front man Gregory Curvey continues his current run of excellence with his project Custard Flux's sensational third outing, the up coming release of Oxygen. Custurd Flux was born when Curvey, a genuine renaissance man, acquired a dilapidated 100 year old Harmonium, restored it and created the marvellous 'Helium' (review), the acoustic solo genesis of the Custard Flux sound. Subsequently there was 'Echo' (review), the evolved and augmented sound of Custard Flux. Both acclaimed albums were immediate runaway successes, with pressings quickly being snapped up. And why wouldn't they, both are gloriously unique aural explorations in psychedelia. Oxygen's a further evolution of the already well established Custard Flux sound, another delightful blend of acoustic/electric instrumentations. Like it's siblings Oxygen shares the fundamental Custard Flux DNA, though again being the consummate psychedelic alchemist with the magpies eye, Curvey's masterfully spliced new elements into it, further augmenting, mutating and evolving it. This is psychedelic music at it's best, it's scope doesn't merely span that genre though, it's extends way further into other genres, creating something truly original and unique. Nothing sounds like Custard Flux, man, nothing.

The crew manifest for this outing of the starship Custard Flux is also evolved. We see the return of the Prettyman brothers, Timothy on double bass and Walt on violin (if you happen to read this Walt, particularly loving your offerings, man), who both contributed so wonderfully to the evolution in sound of Echo, continue their integral contributions to Custard's Flux.  There's also the addition of the cracking guitar(s) of Vito Greco, another musician you'd have heard previously giving wicked performances on Curvey's projects. Finally, there's a fabulous special guest contribution by Psychedelic Furs saxophonist Mars Williams on the titular track, which takes the Custard Flux sound into a wondrously unexpected direction.  As for everything else, and it's a lengthy list, that's Gregory Curvey himself, guitar, vocals, harmonium, harpsichord (really loving that sound by the way), bass, piano, drums and oddities (Curvey's description). A fabulous ensemble of accomplished musicians, I'm sure you'd agree. 

Oxygen's an apt moniker for this outing, its addition making the Custard Flux star burn even brighter. From the eponymous opening track you're instantly aware that the Custard Flux has developed and grown, at moments its bigger sound creates natural allusions to The Luck Of Eden Hall's sound swimming amongst the bubbling stream of Custard Flux. Mind you, that's certainly no criticism or complaint, and it's wholly understandable and natural too. Gregory Curvey's style and aesthetic, and particularly his vocal delivery are unique and instantly recognizable. As you'd imagine from Curvey the attention to detail in the arrangements and production of each and every track are incredible and exquisite, every instrument is deployed, it's qualities exploited, to masterful effect. As for his lyrics they're usually poetic, often pertinent, unequivocally eloquent, and always a genuine pleasure to mull over. Bravo, sir, and kudos to all involved, you've collectively created something magnificent. You should check out Shane Swank's groovy video for Quaratyne off Oxygen, which exemplifies the Custard Flux aesthetic. 

Oxygen's the tastiest serving of Custard Flux so far, perfectly seasoned, it goes down a treat. If you've liked previous Custard Flux releases you'll be loving this, man.  If you've not heard the band before, though you dig original explorations in psychedelia, then, man, I know you're going to dig this and be clambering for copies of the previous releases too. Check it out, it's available in two fabulous multi coloured vinyl pressings or as a digital download. Be quick though if you looking to grab yourself a vinyl copy, only available to pre-order from yesterday (for release date 3rd July) Oxygen is already selling like hot cakes! 

Rhododendron

Exotic and delicate, the flowers of Rhododendrons (Rhododendron ponticum)  create quite a colourful spectacle amongst our native woodland, really rather beautiful, they definitely stand out. I imagine that's why they originally grew popular for the gardens of country estates and parks, and why their  popularity continues today.  Sadly though, I'm bound to cut them down whenever I have the opportunity (in the wild, not in peoples gardens I hasten to add). They're non native and invasive, having been introduced in the 18th century from China (although in recent years there's been the suggestion British ones originated in the Mediterranean), and pose an extreme threat to both our natural flora and fauna. With no threats, few pests or diseases and being prolific reproducers Rhododendrons can rapidly colonize and dominate, their leaves create dense cover blocking out the sun, nothing grows under their canopy, little lives in it and their liking of acid soils means they thrive around here. When I stumble upon them in flower though they stir mixed emotions, initially I think wow nice show, though almost immediately I know they really need to go. 

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. 

1st of June 1985

Photo ukrockfestivals.com

Thirty five years ago today saw the Battle of the Beanfield, a dark day in Britain's policing history, when a convoy of peaceful travellers and festival folk known as the 'Peace Convoy' suffered a brutal unprovoked attack, subsequent arrest, with many of their homes destroyed by the police as they made their way to the Stonehenge Free Festival site. I wasn't at the Beanfield, though some friends and I were near Stonehenge that day. In brief, in 1985 the annual Stonehenge Free Festival (which in 1984, for me, had been a life changing experience), was banned by the government who defined it as lawless and criminal, this ban was to be enforced viciously by the police. Obviously, those who organized the festival and those attended it had other ideas, and the die was cast for a confrontation in the Wiltshire countryside, the allotted date, the first of June 1985. It was to be a long and memorable day, culminating in an event no one could have imagined, though today I'm focusing on  just one element of it, about an hour and a half of the afternoon, near Stonehenge. 

Weather wise it was day much like today, hot, sunny, airless. Whilst the Convoy made it's way from Savernake, several hundred peaceful proponents of the free festival found themselves corralled by the police on the A303 and half a mile from Stonehenge, on the ridge where the New Kings Barrows are.  It wasn't long before the group decided to flank the police road blocks, leave the road and make for the festival site cross country through the summer fields. There was no sense of what was to come as we reached the field adjacent to the festival stage field.  There were only a handful of police, heavily out numbered by protesters, forming a line between the two fields. We didn't want any conflict and so sat down and chilled in the sun, the mood was upbeat, smiles all round; the line of police were all smiles too, though in hindsight there's might have been more sinister knowing smiles. On the horizon you could see the ancient stones silhouetted against the blue sky. We'd held the field for no time when a column of vans raced along the A360 alongside the stones, this obviously got our attention, especially when we saw the occupants disembark. It was the police, or was it, some were definitely police, though there has long been suspicion that others, possibly military, were involved too, as few had insignia or proper uniform, just boiler suits, some with shields and most with batons.  Naively expecting a stand off situation followed by a negotiation, some of us formed ranks, linking arms in preparation to hold our captured ground. Still, the mood was peaceful. That was all about to change.  The boiler suited mass moved slowly down the slope through the field, though not to reinforce the police line as we'd imagined, they moved directly towards us. As they neared they picked up speed and raised their batons, there was to be no stand off, no discussion, and with no advanced warning or justification they charged into us flailing their batons wildly. It would be fair to say, it was a a bit of a surprise, chaos ensued and any resolve to hold our ground soon withered under their assault. We were quickly forced back up on to the A303, all the time the police lashing out indiscriminately, kicking, pushing and striking with batons, no one was spared, they were out of control. I saw people battered and bloodied, all ages, both sexes, I actually saw a pregnant woman bleeding from her head. It was shocking, I'd never seen people acting like this. At one point back on the A303 I slowed to light up a cigarette and was immediately struck by a succession of baton blows to my sides, 4 or 5 maybe, I crumpled, prepared for more, when a guy shouted 'leave him alone', I turned to see a chap coming to my defence. Of course, he was battered too, before the 'officers' moved on to others. Angry, I approached a senior officer (an inspector), who just told me to 'piss off' and I was forcibly moved on. so I wandered on, hoping to see someone I knew in the chaos. Then right in front of me a man was knocked out of his wheelchair by marauding boiler suited 'officers' (they were merely thugs really), they subsequently beat the folk trying to help the guy up. Thugs, man, nothing more, it's not hard to beat up peaceful 'hippies' in retreat. Then an incensed uniformed police sergeant rushed over, and as I remember it, he physically picked up and threw the 2 thugs doing the beating behind him, yelling at them to fuck off behind the police lines, he then immediately reached in helping get the wheelchair guy up and check him and the others were okay, he apologised and then disappeared back into the fray. This all happened just a couple of hours before the same police/military attacked the Convoy, I've always thought we were their hors d'oeuvre, and the Beanfield their main course, when many of them gorged on violence like pigs.

I was reminded of that particular event today watching the horrible news coming out of America of the public murder of a man by the police, watching vile police/military thugs using legalised violence to attack innocence with impunity. Though I also saw others wearing the same uniforms posting messages, being filmed, decrying the actions of those thugs, and behaving with decency and honour. That day in '85 could've seen me hating the police full stop, and if it wasn't for the actions of that sergeant I surely would have. Division and polarization, the 'them and us' or 'other' narrative, is a key weapon currently being deployed by right wing populists leaders....they've long used it as it's so very effective. Fed the right diet it's an easy route for folk to take (any folk, from whatever perspective), especially with provocation or reinforced through experience or media driven perception, though we mustn't be drawn in to those mental cul-de-sacs. Experience tells us that there are good and bad individuals in most groups or organizations, and if we lose sight of that, we'll have already handed our enemies victory. The good from all quarters must coalesce.

Heavenly scent

Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum) surely the most heavenly of woodland scents. I love it. Whenever I pick up Honeysuckle scent on the wind I float towards it like a cartoon character to pie, and when I reach it I'm like a dog with ass, I've just got to stick my nose right on in.

Apples

Lockdown and the aesthetic sameness to everyday, coupled with my groundhog day natured routine have had me feeling like I'm living outside of time. Trapped in my looped existence there have been times when I've honestly not known what day of the week it is, as they're all essentially the same. This has led to me being constantly surprised when I notice signs that the wheel has of course turned and it's not still March or April.  Today's surprise was brought to me by the apple trees over the common when I saw them laden with young fruits. In my mind it was only yesterday that I was photographing their emerging blossom.

Sharks Tooth

Following on from that last post. This is what a good sized shark tooth looks like when recovered from the marine clay before in reaches the intertidal. 

Baby teeth

Fossils are continually eroding out of the ever seaward crawling cliff face, by the time they reach the intertidal virtually all of the fragile shells have fragmented and crumbled. Only the sharks teeth tend to survive. Although by the time you find them along the low tide line, unless you're very lucky, they're usually quite degraded. They've survived unscathed embedded in marine clays for 40 million years, though being rolled amongst the sand and pebbles for a few months soon wears them down...eventually to nothing. Still, even the degraded ones are cool, it's always nice to find something of that sort of age.

Sunken sentinel exposed

I can remember a time when you could crouch inside the remains of this sunken World War Two sentinel half buried in the intertidal below the Barton slides, you could still just see through it's embrasures too. That was many years ago now though. The sands regularly reveal and obscure this old pillbox on a whim, though never to extent I'm talking about. Thinking about it, that was probably 30 years plus ago now. We headed out for our walk earlier this morning to avoid the potential of a gathering herd, getting to the beach by 0730, our objective was realized. It was a good move, only a handful of dog walkers and trio of horse riders, and they were all at the bunny end of the beach, so beyond the sunken sentinel the sands were ours alone. Happy days.

The beach

Back at the coast again this morning. The tide was out exposing a 30m beach and a further 20m's of shin deep shallows, allowing for easy distancing. I've been reluctant to brave the beach fearing herds of walkers (Walking Dead reference intended) and even at 0800 the sands were dotted with day trippers, though still easily manageable. The sea's so good for Geoff, it's good for his skin, he gets to cool down in the sea, he enjoys a swim, and he sees other dogs, he loves it here, that said, he loves it everywhere. We walked from Chewton Bunny towards Barton, past the eroding cliffs which are returning the landlocked inhabitants of a vast 40 million year old lagoon back to the sea. It was lovely, the further along we walked the less folk there were, until it wasn't long before our beach walk was undertaken in solitude. Looking back though, towards the Bunny, I could see a herd had formed at the Highcliffe end of the bay and so decided to take an alternative route home. Too many people don't appear to understand and are dropping their guard. We're still shielding my wife and so the shit's still real for us, whereas the actions of many folk would suggest that everything was all right now, the 'Rona' a thing of the past, that lockdown was a memory and normality had returned. I wish it had, and I wish I had their confidence....but it hasn't and I haven't. 

Oh Buoy!

Geoff was suspicious of this sizeable oddity on the beach in front of us this morning, approaching tentatively he periodically stopped watched for any movement and gave a unconvincing warning bark. The object wasn't at all bothered. The object turns out to be a visitor from the United States of America, a 2 ton buoy (phonetically 'boy' to us, or 'boo-ie' to America) which must have broken free from it's tethering chain (the remains of which can be seen attached) somewhere off the East Coast and bobbed across the pond. That's quite a journey, and quite a moment when even maritime furniture decides to flee Trump's America. When it arrived it had a structure on top, a light and 'x' symbol, where they've gone, I don't know. The coastal flotsam and jetsam never fails to prick the imagination.

Her church not made with hands

The forest looked like this today. It was magical. The Waterboys 1984 album Pagan Place has a track on it titled 'Church not made with hands', and today the forest felt just like that. Like natures expansive organic cathedral where the ancient trees were the mighty pillars holding up the high vaulted canopy roof. And the comparisons continued, the shaded stands were cool like a church, and dappled light danced amongst the trunks like the light cast through huge stained glass windows. That's where the comparison ends though, as of course, natures works will always outshine the works of man. Was lovely.

On a tangent, we saw a huge grass snake on our walk, it was a full grown adult, largest I've ever seen, must've been a full 1.5 meters long, and it moved fast, man, did it move. Our meeting had been to all our surprises, and our responses reflected that. My initial, aaargh, abated upon identifying a Grass Snake (Natrix helvetica), and was quickly replace with awe and wonder at our country's largest snake. Magnificent. Geoff had seen something new, and he wasn't at all sure he'd enjoyed the meeting. And, the snake flew, disappearing swiftly amongst the flora and debris of the woodland floor, in a style that highlighted just how it had lived long enough to get so big.

Hidden history

History never rests, it's always creating more of itself, so much so that most of what went before gets forgotten, especially the ephemeral.  We'll walk past historical hints all the time, totally oblivious to them or the parts they played. Take these iron loops on one of our local bridges, two pairs a meter of so apart, set into the bridges brickwork opposite each other, easily overlooked. Any ideas about what they could've been for? The only reason I know is that one of my archaeological interests are the home front defences/sites/features of World War 2. These are anchoring points for wire anti tank/vehicle obstacles erected during the early part of the Second World War, the invasion fear period, probably by local defence forces. Who'd have thought. They reckon this sort of defence would've been effective in at least slowing down the light armour the Germans would have been able to land, and stopped most other vehicles. I understand there was some kind of defensive structure covering the bridge too, possibly a pillbox or strong point, although no evidence of that endures. Everything out there tells a story, and everywhere has stories to tell.

Ay up chuck

The yellow orange hues of fresh Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus) clumps are noticeable in themselves, shine a light on them and, man, they fluoresce. You could spot this clump from way off amongst the stands of Brinken this morning. It's been an average year for Chicken of the Woods, plenty about, though not noticeably abundant. Something I have observed though is the amount of it that's been foraged. You'll always see the stumps of harvested clumps, although they're far more widespread and often clear cut this season, and from some awkward to get to spots too. To me that could highlight the reach of the media; during the 'panic buying' prelude to the covid lockdown I'd seen a marked increase in the number of articles relating to foraging...and here we are, a visible increase in foraging. It's unwise to underestimate the influence of the media.

Ents

Throughout the forest the Ents move freely.

Living history

My archaeologist/historian mind has frequently had me wondering what it must have been like living through different transformative moments in history. Sat on the site of the Medieval hunting lodge close to Queen's Bower this morning it dawned on me that I'm getting the opportunity to actually live through one such moment in history, or to be more accurate, a clusterfuck of such moments. The escalating climate crisis, deepening global economic crisis, the rise of populism, and separatism, social decay and an increasing frequency of epidemics and pandemics; that's quite a menu of moments. It's through our own agency too, we've brought ourselves to this moment, all the seed problems we've planted are all blooming spectacularly at once, in real time. The question is, will we make it to become history, or are we writing the final chapter?

Half Time

Half time.

Highland Meander

The majority of Highland Water escaped Victorian alteration retaining it's beautiful deep cut natural meanders. Between Roman Bridge and Queen's Bower the stream forms the boundary between Brinken Wood and Great Huntley Bank and later between Brinken Wood and Camel Green, it's all relatively open ancient/veteran deciduous woodland, and the riverside walking here is the finest of it's kind in the forest. Throughout the lofty canopies of huge beech who've come down to the river to drink set dappled light dancing over the banks and murmuring flow. It's a place to breath nature in deeply.

The Watcher

We lazed in White's Plantation this morning, enjoying laying out under the warming sun, it was glorious. Though it was changed from our recent lazes, today there was a slightly ominous air. Only a few short days after Johnson's change of message and already all over the increase in movement is palpable, nature's silence broken by the return of the low hum of human activity, occasional punctuated by the throaty roar of a speedster on the nearby A35. Remember in the Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, King Theoden muses 'So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?' Well, I don't think it's reckless hate that now afflicts us, more abject indifference tempered with a soupçon of disdain. With threadbare credibility the Government seeks to hastily loosen lockdown, and moves to coerce people back into the service of the economy. We must remember to bow to Economy. We'd be fools to imagine the ideological cogs have ever stopped turning, on the contrary, they've made ground. Of course, the return is to be undertaken using prudence and common sense; 'trust us', 'you'll be safe', 'there'll be measures to protect you', words spoken in reassuring tone, unfortunately said measures are amorphous, cut as they are from the same cloth as Emperor Johnson's new cloths. Ooh, but don't the red tops, owned by those who couldn't be more removed from the people or the metaphoric 'front', love it, they rush to promote the Glorious leader's new narrative. We've all got do our patriotic duty, blitz spirit and all that, we've returned to a 'take on the chin for the economy' and 'herd immunity' mindset, though by stealth. Blue collar workers first of course, stay alert now, this is on you! Mulling it over I kept returning to Theoden's question, and kept coming up empty handed. What can you do? Alone most of us have no real agency to effect change, and I see no unifying banner being raised. It's frustrating. Then I remember an interview I'd read, ages ago, with the legendary Patti Smith, during the piece she'd briefly discussed living through the social collapse and chaos of late 70's/early 80's dystopian New York.  And I remember Patti Smith saying how she and others of the creative community got by through becoming, sort of, passive observers of it. I thought, you know, that's not a bad perspective to adopt. As much as you can, you have to exist outside of the madness, remain informed (in that respect Johnson's right when he says we should stay alert, we really must), just watch and wait stoically, like a Watcher from the Marvel universe. Ah comics, you can always find respite there too.

Cary Grace 'Covers Vol 1'

We arrived hope from our morning walk to find a delivery. Oh, happy day.  It was my copy of Cary Grace's fabulous 'Covers Vol.1'. I'd missed the initial release and due to licensing laws the tracks weren't available as a download or to listen to, other than the tracks I'd heard Cary perform live I could  only imagine what they sounded like. Now, I thought I had a good imagination, though clearly not, as Cary's interpretations of some hefty classics by the likes of Dylan and the Stones easily exceeded my already high expectations. I imagine covering other artists work must be trepidatious, so undertaking a whole album of covers must take bravery (more so than Ulysses maybe), though Cary appears to have taken it in her stride. The interpretations go well beyond simple covers, Cary's taken some well established and much loved classics and imbued them with that Cary Grace magic, and the results speak for themselves, she's made each track her own. What an excellent album, throughout the quality and production values are consistently superb, kudos must go to Cary et al for their always immutable high calibre performances. It's impossible for me to single out one track as a favourite, which ever one I'm listening to at any moment is my favourite. That said, the Bowie covers are really quite sublime, especially 'Queen Bitch' with it's dope New York proto punk aesthetic, but then there's the divine 'Black Country Rock', and hey, both Floyd tracks are truly something else.....see what I mean, impossible to choose. Being a multidiscipline artist Cary's attention to detail is immaculate, the CD, inner and sleeve all nicely mimicking a vinyl album, the lovely touch of a hand written thank you, all beautifully packaged in white and black tissue and housed in a tidy black cardboard box, with a hand drawn spaceship on the front. Pure class, man, and a pleasure in itself, even before you hear the music. I reckon these'll sell out quick, they did the first time! So don't hang about. Go here, buy one.          

Elder

I have a funny relationship with the Elder (Sambucus nigra), I love the flowers, love their flavour and have long utilized them along with Elder's powerfully medicinal (and again tasty) berries, though I'm wary of tree itself, aware of it's sanctity. I'm quite superstitious where natures concerned. It's home to the Elder Goddess, a mostly benevolent nature spirit offering blessings through her bountiful gifts, though you must always ask before you take, and folklore tells us that to cut down an Elder or burn it's wood is sure to antagonize her...and you don't want to do that. I don't even like trimming Elder, always offering placations, and never never burning any trimmings. The 'always asking before taking' (and thanking), is something I've long adopted across my foraging practice and has become second nature. It feels only right and proper. It's not just flowers and berries with Elder either, it's been understood since prehistory that all parts of the Elder offer practical uses. Another wonder of natures superstore, or as Naboo on The Mighty Boosh aptly described it...Shamansbury's. 

Schnauser

Over lockdown, when I've had a couple of quid spare, I've tried to buy something from bandcamp, musicians are having a hard time of it and hey, I love music, two birds and all that. Recently I bought a Schnauser cassette single. I've long liked schnauser, they have a original psychedelic sound, warm, theatrical, very British, it's both thoroughly engaging and absorbing, Alan Strawbridge has a fabulous voice too. If you're interested, there are two related bands The Lucky Bishops and Gothic Chicken, different, though all sharing DNA. Love one, I guarantee you'll love them all. Though I digress. Today my cassette arrived, and to my surprise was accompanied by a signed copy of the bands 2010 album 'The Sound of Meat', far out! I'd seen that you got a free signed copy when you bought a t-shirt, never imagined I'd get one with my paltry purchase. I was made up, man, how cool is that, so generous, made my day. Both cassette and CD are fabulous. Also, the band recently posted that there'll be a new album on the horizon. The cool just keeps piling up.

Tiny choppers

We've got this lovely Japanese Maple (Acer palmatum) in the garden, it used to be in my parents front garden, it was all oranges and reds, then one day the sawed it down and I saved it. Luckily it survived (it's been moved again since too) and when it grew back it grew back plain green, although come autumn it puts on a beautiful rainbow show of colours, it's quite a transformation. I don't remember it having as many 'helicopters' on it as it has this year, they're copious, it's a lovely sight, they're pretty little things.

The Locker Room Cowboys,

Bassist Andy Budge's project The Locker Room Cowboys have released their first single since the band's début on Fruits de Mer's triple vinyl compilation 'The Tree Seasons' (performing an outstanding interpretation of the Rolling Stones 'We, love you'), and it's very cool indeed. Two wonderful tracks 'Always Love You' and 'Revolutions'. 'Always Love You' has a lovely 60's folk rock-esque ambience, soothing jangly guitar and lovely backing vocalsa sunny afternoon of a song, whereas Revolutions' has a much  grander arrangement with a bigger sound, would work well in a film soundtrack I reckon, or...as the final track on an album, it's a fantastic number. I understand that Andy has the musicians lined up to record a Locker Room Cowboys album, now that's something I can't wait to hear. You gotta go check this out. A little side note, I love this image of Carrie Fisher, she was cool, and of course a definite childhood crush of any Star Wars fan of my generation.

Perspective

Can you see the wood for the trees? 

First harvest

One aspect of our localized lockdown walks is getting insights into the agricultural year of our locale. Since March we've seen fields ploughed and seeded, their crops sprout, sheep grazing amongst the solar panels, black lambs born elsewhere, and now what must be one of the years earliest harvests. Yesterday these fields were expansive seas of shimming shin high vibrant green grass, today nought remains. Harvested for silage, a flurry of huge tractor drawn trailers raced back and forth transporting this important resource used to feed cattle through the winter to the storage silos where it'll be left to ferment until required. 

Toady

Although he looks like he's in some form of reptile detention centre, he's not. Mr Toad is always free to visit the lotty, an enemy of the barbaric slug empire is a friend of mine. Hail, welcome and good hunting my warty ally.

Carpet of Oak

The cities tiny Oaks have now become a dense carpets of Oaks. It's a very cool sight. I find myself in a quandary though. I know you shouldn't usually removed plants from the wild, and all that, though I also know that these Oaks will be seen as invasive, encroaching as they are on the farmers field and are undoubtedly destined to be destroyed. Do I try and rescue some, replanting them in safer spots around our locale....or not? I have to say, I'm leaning towards...yes. Though there's an issue, I wont be able to move them with much chance of success until winter, so it's whether or not they survive the plough/strimmer until then. 

Warwickslade Cutting

Glorious walking today.

Vinyl release of Echo by Custard Flux

We returned from our walk this morning to find the posty had delivered treasures in the form of Custard Flux's vinyl release of Echo and bonus CD, and what groovy things. Musically, it's quality assured, that's Curvey's modus operandi, my review of this wonderful album is here, and my review of the equally lovely accompanying CD of bonus material is here. As for the physical product, ditto, quality assured, I went for the beautiful multi coloured version, it's a nice clean pressing, housed in a high grade sleeve. It's a real nice thing. If you haven't already, you really must check out Echo, and Echo's equally fantastic predecessor 'Helium', both are glorious listens.        

Camel Green Blossom

We usually see Hawthorn as a hedgerow shrub, regularly controlled and contained by the hedge layer and flail. Or as a manicured and tamed garden feature, like yesterday's Crimson Hawthorn. Out here in the forest though they've no such constraints, and make the most of their freedom, filling the understory with clusters of white flowers, reaching their blooms towards the sky.  You notice that through the year everything has it's moment to shine in the forest. Now it's the Hawthorn's time.

Crimson Hawthorn

We saw this stunning Crimson Hawthorn (Crataegus laevigata) whilst out walking this morning, what a beauty. I stood for a while taking it all in, it's a good sized shrub tree and was a real riot of colour. 

Beltane

As the Beltane sunrise comes around; 

and through leaf and bud new life abound.
Beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun; 

the God and Goddess again are one.
The Queen of May, and the Wildwood King; 

joined together as spring birds sing.

Timeless vows, are again renewed; 

and throughout the land new life imbued.
As flowers bloom across our land; 

we'll take our lovers by the hand.
We'll lead them to our secret places; 

and there, rejoice in loves embraces.
Whilst high on the hills, Bel fires burn bright;
in the joys of nature, we'll all delight.

Whatever your path, whatever your tradition; 

in the coming season, may your dreams see fruition.

Beltane blessings y'all.