The Mountain Trail

Life is like a mountain trail

that every man must try

To follow from the flowery dale

 into the mountains high

And at the end of life's long climb

 he sits him down to rest

And there looks back across his time

 while the sun sets in the west.

He sees the fields, the farms and trees,

 the land he thought he knew,

Amazed by how much more he sees

 than when he travelled through,

For then he walked with eyes downcast

so seldom turning back,

But now his journey done at last

he surveys his winding track.

And all life's steep and slippery crags -

how small they seem from here,

The many sharp and brambly snags -

how harmless they appear.

The places where he lost his way

he now recalls with smiles,

How could he go so far astray

along such well-worn miles.

For the footpath rises sure and slow

to meet this rocky brow,

Too barren for a tree to grow

too stony for the plough.

A place so cold and so severe

that bears no vein of gold

And all man gains for climbing here

is the prospect to behold.

Fertile vales and mountains grand

the sun sets over all,

Lays its gold upon the land

like woodlands in the fall,

Wealth enough for any man

Who comes this way to roam

to sit content, his long day spent,

'Neath heaven's starry dome.

As I Was Going To Strawberry Fair....

Cambridge's "Strawberry Fair" started in 1974 - I know 'cos I woz there!  A few local bands played for free, which was the thing to do in those days, after all The Stones had just played  Hyde Park. There were a few fire-eaters, jugglers, clowns and tightrope walkers, a guy selling vegetarian food and I suppose there was a bar. And it's still going and it's still free - it's changed a bit and grown a lot, haven't we all.

Take care.

A Riverside Ramble

To the east of the Fens lies Breckland, a unique but often overlooked area of the country, but not overlooked by me; it's where  we're off to today. The light sandy soils were easily worked by early farmers but were soon exhausted (the soils not the farmers!). The name "Breckland" is probably derived from "broken land", as an area of heathland developed with its own special plants, animals and birds. One plant you can't miss in summer is Vipers Bugloss:

After the First World War much of the area was planted with conifers but nowadays recreation is more important than timber - it's said that ice-cream sales now provide more revenue than wood! I certainly bought one on my walk from Thetford to Brandon, following the River Little Ouse. The valley still contains plenty of natural woodland, a welcome change from the armies of conifers.

I got off the train at Thetford - not the most interesting of towns, though it was home of a large Benedictine Priory from 1103 till 1540. The ruins of the old church and cloisters can still be seen.

From there it was down to the riverside path, the haunt of Grey Wagtails and Kingfishers. This morning I also saw a female Goosander in amongst the Mallards and Moorhens. I ambled dreamily along in the early morning sunshine soaking up the green peacefulness.

The path turned away from the river and the path wove its way through the dappled shadows of the trees.

The blissful tranquility was somewhat interrupted by having to pass a factory though the river maintained its charms even in the shadow of industry.

The tiny church near the Forestry Commission's car park near Santon Downham always merits a photograph. The only people I passed all day were within a half-mile on either side of the car park, it always amazes me (and, from a selfish point of view, pleases me!) that the majority of people miss so much in places like this. 

A track led through the coniferous forest, the air thick with the sweet resinous aroma of pine, and brought me to the village shop where I purchased that much-needed ice-cream. My thinking must have been addled by choc-ice as I made the decision to follow the river all the way to Brandon. I knew there was an alternative route, I knew I was wearing shorts and I knew that the path is often overgrown with stinging nettles but somehow the river had cast a spell over me so I found a stick and bashed my way through - with the expected consequences, stung legs and lots of spitefully beheaded nettles. The Little Ouse still looked fine though.

Take care.

Wells-Next-The-Sea (part two)

While taking photographs of Wells-Next-The-Sea

I began to concentrate on small details

like lobster-pots

and ropes and fishing-line

interesting textures

strange reflections in smeary windows

abstract patterns on shed walls

flaking paint on derelict boats

some looked like miniature landscapes

this reminds me of the random water channels through the sand

 

well, which view of Wells do youprefer?

(if any)

Take care.

Wells-Next-The-Sea (part one)

I thought I'd take a few photos of Wells on the Norfolk Coast

it all started normally enough

shots of pretty streets

the harbour 

colourful boats

attractive buildings

young children after crabs

The Albatros, now converted to a floating cafe

even the odd bit of humour

then I wandered down among the fishing boats

things started to get strange....

(more to follow)

Take care 

Coasthopping

I made use of Norfolk Green's wonderful Coasthopper bus around the North Norfolk coast today. A Coasthopper Rover ticket allows you to hop on and off the bus wherever you like and with buses running every 30 minutes it's a very convenient way of exploring the coast. On a whim I got off at Morston Quay this morning in order to go for a stroll out over the saltmarsh.

The tide was way out so the boats were all high and dry in the creek. It also meant that there were few people about - boat trips leave from here at high water. Redshanks and Oystercatchers flew up noisily on all sides and may have had nests in the vicinity so I was careful where I trod.

Little pink flowers of Thrift added a sprinkle of colour to the scene. They are also known as Sea Pinks, which makes sense since they are pink and grow by the sea, but why "Thrift"? Apparently the words "thrift" meaning "careful with one's resources", "thrive" meaning "to flourish" and the name of the plant, all derive from the Old Norse word thrifask which means "to grasp for oneself" and by implication to do well in difficult circumstances. This the little plant certainly does, thriving on windswept clifftops, on poor soil, on salty land and even on spoil heaps from lead mines. This last adaptation gave rise to to the idea that it was a cure for lead-poisoning. Incidentally, readers who are old enough and English enough will remember that the flower used to be depicted on the old threepenny-bit; a pun on the word "thrift" and also perhaps acknowledging its ability to thrive on the cheap metals from which the coin was made. 

Further on I encountered gorse bushes in flower which reminded me of the old saying "When gorse is flowering then kissing's in season" - a happy thought since gorse seems to flower throughout the year!

At Stiffkey Fen a number of birds were either nesting or caring for young ones. The nearby house always looks an idyllic place to live in summer but less so in mid-winter when gales blow in from the North Sea and huge flocks of noisy geese inhabit the fen. I wandered on in the warm sunshine to Wells-Next-The-Sea, of which more in future posts, then caught the bus to the RSPB reserve at Titchwell Marsh .

Lots of changes have been taking place at Titchwell as it has been realised that maintaining the sea defences in their present position is going to prove prohibitively expensive. The RSPB have taken the opportunity to re-vamp the whole site, in particular building a new Parrinder Hide.

Having seen it I really don't know what to make of it: it's certainly a fine building, impressive, functional and comfortable; but as yet it seems to look completely out of place and doesn't fit in with my feeling that birdwatching is just one aspect of the outdoor experience. As you sit on the swivelling stools and peer out through the panoramic windows you almost feel that you might as well be watching Springwatch on TV. Which reminds me..

Take care.

Seasonal Obsessions

An Englishman's summer obsessions are these:

1. watching the weather
2. watching the cricket
3. watching out for summer migrant birds

Well, those are my obsessions anyway.

Firstly, the weather. It's actually been raining this afternoon as is evidenced by the above picture. It hasn't rained properly in my part of the world for the last two months and everything, especially in my garden, is looking rather thirsty. The ground is looking like this:

Now I know that's no big deal if you're reading this in Adelaide or Texas but this is England in May.

Then there's Cricket, that strange pastime which usually causes the heavens to open. England have just recorded a remarkable victory, but that's not what I've ben thinking about. I've been thinking about village cricket, which bears as much relation to international cricket as a barn dance to the Bolshoi ballet.

I was watching a match on Parker's Piece in the centre of Cambridge. They'd obviously been watching a lot of first class matches on TV and were "trying to do things proper, like". At least, they all had white trousers and walked around clapping their hands like real cricketers. All rather different from the first game I ever saw on a cow pasture in Caldecote. Some of the men wore their work boots and the ball had to be frequently retrieved from the brook, having been deposited there by a red-faced farmer who may have lacked timing and technique but made up for it with brute strength. Or at Grantchester where the opening bowler had to be summoned from a lunchtime drinking session in the pub.

All that remains of Grantchester's team is the old pavilion, now used as an artist's studio, and the roller which was used to prepare the pitch.

And finally. Turtle Doves are in decline and you can spend a lot of time searching for them. Even if you can hear their gentle purring song it can still be difficult to catch sight of one. Or you can come home as I did this afternoon and see one walking about on the grass just outside the window. Thanks once again to my neighbour and his feeding station. I just hope he saw it too.

Take care.