Dawning Of The Day

Until a couple of years ago I had a regular Sunday walk. Up early, walk through the village, cross a local nature reserve, along a green path, into the next village, alongside a field, follow the little stream, down the lane and then climb over a fence to walk around the bird reserve at Fowlmere. After a morning of birdwatching I'd retrace my steps, diverting to the garden centre where they serve a very acceptable Sunday lunch. But circumstances change and I've had other things to do on Sunday (like work, for example) so I hadn't been for a while. Till today.

The sky gradually brightening, but the sun still below the horizon.

A footpath runs through this field;

I decided to go the other way!

The half-light lends a rosy glow

to the autumn hues.

The sun finally made it!

Mist hung over the fields to the south. 

Fieldfares, Redwings, Siskins.......

....Teal, Snipe, Kingfisher, Water Rail....

.....and Mr Heron waiting patiently for breakfast.

On the east meadow this enchanting scene.

One of the many tiny streamlets.

On my way home I met these fine creatures,

Manx Loghtan sheep. Their name simply means

"mouse-brown sheep from the Isle Of Man".

A splendid morning.

Take care.  

Pages From An Album

Take care.

The Cottage On The Green

Every old building has a story to tell, but as yet science hasn't found a way to plug in to those ancient timber beams to decipher the sound waves that the wood has absorbed during the centuries. The present-day occupants can only guess at the nature of the lives of those who've trod those uneven floorboards in the past.

The Cottage On The Green

Unless that is that the home in question is "The Cottage On The Green" and the inhabitant is Mr Rowland Parker. When he bought the property back in 1946 Rowland Parker also came to possess a bundle of old documents relating to the building. But unravelling the history of the house was not going to prove that easy. It sent the author off on a long journey of discovery, looking through old dusty papers in records offices, gazing at the timbers of the cottage itself, speaking with the oldest inhabitants of the village and even conducting an archaeological dig in his living room!

The farmhouse on The Green

At the end of his researches he'd uncovered the stories of those who'd lived there for the last 500 years and the changes they'd wrought upon the building to make it suitable for the times in which they lived. He'd found more than enough material to write a slim volume entitled, naturally, "Cottage On The Green" but, more than that, he'd set himself upon the road to researching the history of his home village of Foxton, which eventually gave rise to his best-known book "The Common Stream". Both of these publications are difficult to find now, though both should be classics of English social history, but a search on Amazon may turn up some second-hand copies.

This is not the place to give you the entire story of The Cottage but here are a few glimpses into the book and the history:
     ~ what we today call cottages are not cottages at all but the homes of moderately well-off yeoman farmers. Cottages were the shacks of the poor, built only to last a few years.

The village pump on The Green

     ~ the "dig" in the living room unearthed some sheep bones. These were apparently buried to bring good luck to the household, a survival from earlier times when a sacrifice was made to the gods.
     ~ the long, extremely wordy documents that the writer had to plough through owed their lack of brevity to the simple fact that lawyers could demand higher fees for such papers, especially in days when the majority of people couldn't read.

Another cottage on The Green

     ~ the house originally was a single room, open to the rafters; this was the way people lived back then. The bedrooms are a later refinement. The rather awkward step which the author had to negotiate each time he entered his bedroom, which he at first cursed and then ignored, was the clue which eventually led him to this conclusion.

The former malting-house on The Green

    ~ the tiny village of Foxton had once held an annual trading fair, which took place on the green right outside the cottage.

View down the road

But I've only scratched the surface of the wealth of detail contained in the book. It truly gives an insight into the everyday lives of ordinary people in this part of the world during the last half-millennium.

A window on to history

Take care.

Lark Rise Farm And The CRT

Somewhere in my mind is a dream landscape. A landscape of small fields and thick hedges.  Of lush meadows lying in the valley bottoms and trees with their foliage nibbled off level with the ground by browsing cattle. Skylark song fills the sky while yellowhammers throng in the bushes and linnets peck on the ground for seeds. But in my dream this can be achieved in an economically and environmentally sustainable way in the modern world. Is it just a dream?

If it is a dream then it's one shared by an increasing number of country people. And it's a dream that the Countryside Restoration Trust is seeking to make a reality. I recently took a stroll along Bourn Brook and wandered around some of their land at Lark Rise Farm, in Barton, Cambridgeshire.

I started walking here last winter when a Great Grey Shrike took up residence for a few weeks. I never did catch up with the shrike but I saw enough other wild life to make my visits worthwhile. A Barn Owl was frequently seen patrolling the hedgerows and ditches, a fox crossed my path on a number of occasions and a Red Kite, still an uncommon sight in this part of the county, was also encountered.

I strongly advise anyone with any interest in the Trust to click on the link above to find out more about their work, but if you just want to share a little of the dream then here are some more pictures:

Take care.

The Lighthouse And The Lady

Hunstanton lighthouse

OK, I've been tinkering again, trying to make a straightforward photo look something like a painting. You probably need to click on the image to see it properly.

Meanwhile those of you who read my recent post entitled "Stuff" may recall that I mentioned Aunt Sarah Radford, who gave my mother an antique plate as a gift on her wedding day. In amongst my e-mails yesterday came a photo of Aunt Sarah, sent to me by my cousin, who is the authority on family history. So here is her photo:

Aunt

Sarah

Radford

Take care. 



An Ashwell Portfolio

.An hour or two spent wandering through the quaint streets of Ashwell in Hertfordshire.

 

 

Take care.