Visiting the White Horse and its Blacksmith

The situation was agonising to say the least. I'd just dropped Son the Elder off in Oxford for a day of roboteering when my left shoulder - the nominally non-impinged one, which had been muttering under its breath since the previous day, but which I'd chosen not to indulge - decided to have a full-on tantrum, with pain shrieking down my arm and into my wrist and hand. Luckily, StE managed to arrange an alternative lift for the home leg, which meant I wouldn't have to hang around all day. I still had to drive the seventy miles back home, though, which promised to be tortuous.

Back in the sunlit uplands of pre-pain, I'd planned a tour of churches with connections to the Arts and Crafts Movement, followed by a walk along the dream-road that is the Ridgeway to Waylands Smithy, which I'd never visited, despite having paid my respects to the Uffington White Horse on several occasions. I decided the churches could bide their time for now, but since the White Horse car park was more or less en route, why not break my journey and give my arm a bit of a rest by doing that part of my itinerary? 

The ancient Ridgeway is a track running from Overton Hill near the West Kennet long barrow in Wiltshire to Ivinghoe Beacon in Buckinghamshire. Son the Younger and I walked the southernmost end back in January 2020, with our old dog, Ted.

Somehow, despite running through the heart of Southern England, it manages to be quite remote, and has many ancient archaelogical features along its length, including numerous hill forts to defend what was an important trading route, long and round barrows, and the Uffington White Horse, plus - nearby - Avebury Stone Circles and Silbury Hill. 

Just under a mile and a half to the south east of White Horse Hill car park is Wayland's Smithy, so I set off, ignoring the ache in my arm. It was a joy to feel the old chalk path under my feet again. I don't what it is about chalk that draws me - it's not a landscape from my childhood - but I love its light, both during the day and at night, as well as the grasses and flowers that grow in it, which, on this day, were telling a story about the end of summer.  

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Meadow Crane's-Bill; Field Bindweed; Kidney Vetch; Tufted Vetch; Weld; Climbing (Woody) Nightshade; Butter-and-Eggs (Toadflax); Lady's Bedstraw; Field-Scabious; Red Bartsia; Burnet-Saxifrage; Yarrow; Spear Thistle; Harebell; Knapweed; Red Campion; Hogweed; Field Scabious again; Great Hairy Willowherb; Bird's-Foot-Trefoil

Shrill Carder Bee

 

For much of the time a red kite circled overhead, so I kept scanning the ground, as I'd love to add a red kite feather to my collection, but the track is well frequented and, as last year at Watlington Hill, I had no luck. 

Looking back to White Horse Hill

Wayland's Smithy

Wayland's Smithy reminded me very much of West Kennet long barrow, except you can't get inside it. It's actually two barrows constructed one on top of the other, with the remains of fourteen people having been discovered inside the earlier construction.

It felt very special, very atmospheric there.

I then retraced my steps along the Ridgeway and then climbed White Horse Hill.

Looking back the way I came

My arm was pretty painful still, so I decided, as I'd done it some years ago, not to explore the hill fort this time. I did wince my way up to the vantage point near the Horse's head, though, and it was worth it. 

The dry valley that is the Manger

Next time I must make sure my route takes me over Woolstone Hill, the best vantage point for the Horse (other than a hot air balloon). And not leave it so long before I get chalk beneath my boots again.

A return to Acton Court

Acton Court. I visited it last year for the first time with my friend, Cathy, but the lavender wasn't out and it looked like it would be spectacular when it was, so we resolved to go back this year, only later in June, which is the only month it's open to the public, just to see it. And lo, we did.

(If you're wondering about the presence of King Henry VIII above, he visited Acton Court in 1535 with Anne Boleyn. Can't say I care to see monsters celebrated, but the idea and execution of the vase is lovely; I just wish it was Anne.)

And the lavender was out, and it was spectacular.

buff-tailed bumble bee

small skipper

I didn't take a lot of photos of the house and garden as I did all that last year, but some vistas were still too hard to resist. 

One place we didn't visit last year was the extraordinarily well-appointed loo in the royal apartments - not, unfortunately for Henry, available to him during his visit, though there was a garderobe, of course, which was probably cutting edge at the time. This modern version even has a bed in it! 

This time of year, wherever I walk, I'm on the look-out for feathers, and I was delighted to spot both a tawny owl feather ... 

... and my first barn owl primary, having only found secondaries and a couple of body feathers up till now.

Over a cup of tea and some sublime cake, accompanied by Lesley Saunder's lovely collection of poems about the house, we decided we wouldn't mind making the visit to Acton Court an annual event.

The Whole of Summer and Two-Thirds of Autumn

I didn't get to the Field of the Hollowing Oak and the Small Dark Wood of the Mind as much this summer as previous years. This was in part due to the weather, which was either hot and humid, or wet, both of which sent me scurrying to the shelter of the much more extensive woodland on Purdown. 

In addition, the paths along two of the edges and diagonally across the field are so overgrown as to be impassable, which means walking around it is a bit too trying to be relaxing, and sometimes there are days when I need my walks to be relaxing.

Bramble-blocked paths

Finally, the development beyond the wood, out at Charlton Common, is very much happening and a bit depressing. The part of the Common that was mowed, having previously been wild and brambly and home to a herd of muntjac, has had soil spread on top of it and been seeded with grass, presumably in order to make it look tidy for the prospective home-buyers ...  

... and whilst it's a pleasure to get acquainted with some of the trees that were previously inaccessible, it's such a shame for the wildlife.

Even worse, on the other side of the Common, the Skylarks Field is now Challenger Road (after the aviator and aero-engineer, George Challenger), with houses springing up on it.

I try not to walk by the development site too often during the week, when it's impossible to escape the noise of construction work. 

the re-routed footpath

And the ash tree at the bottom of Far Field was felled. Admittedly, it was way past its prime, and suffering from die-back, but I miss it. 

That said, this scrap of edgelands still my favourite place to walk. My favourite moments over the summer were a couple of memorable encounters, the first with a roe doe, which crashed away from me and the dog along the overgrown path that leads to the ditch. In the process she left behind her fawn, which was almost perfectly camouflaged in the long July grass. 

If you can't spot it, here's the video:

The other unforgettable moment came a month earlier, at midsummer, while we were walking back to the car through the Small Dark Wood of the Mind, having watched the sun set. Cwtch ran off into an inaccessible part of the wood, and refused to come back, even though we called and called. Then a black-and-white striped face burst through the trees, but it was too close to the ground and there was another black-and-white striped face behind it, higher and grinning: yes, it was a young badger, with Cwtch in pursuit. They shot past us and back into the wood, Cwtch still refusing to come and the both of us concerned, not that she might harm the badger - there's not a bad bone in her body - but that it might not realise this, turn and swipe her too-close nose with its claws. But then she did come back, happy and unscathed, and we've kept her on a lead through the wood at twilight ever since.

No pictures of that escapade - it happened so fast; just some badger poo instead.

Marking the yellow rubber mat covering part of the re-routed footpath; a series of latrines along one of the paths in the Field of the Hollowing Oak, filled to the brim

We've also seen a few foxes, evidence of rabbits and owls, ubiquitous dead shrews, and a bat box with a picture of a bat on it so that the bats know it's for them.

Plus a kestrel - or maybe more than one - on numerous occasions; ditto, ravens. 

Out on the development site, they're monitoring something in all the hedgerows that haven't yet been ripped out ... 

... though probably not the swallows, magpies and robins.

Talking of birds, there were some feathers to be found, though admittedly not as many as on Purdown.

magpie feathers

jay feather

Buzzard feathers 

tawny owl feathers, some of them rather scruffier than others

predated juvenile thrush

On the whole, it was a good summer for flowers. 

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT:  Hedge Woundwort; Dog Rose; Cuckoo Pint; Cut-Leaved Crane's-Bill Leaf; Dogwood blossom; White clover; Mallow; Sicilian Honey Garlic; Melilot; Hedgerow Crane's-Bill; Hawk's-Beard

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Hemlock; Common Vetch; Nettle; Narrowleaf Bird's-Foot Trefoil; Foxglove; Honeysuckle; Lesser Spearwort; Chamomile; Perforate St John's-Wort; Creeping Thistle 

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Ribwort Plantain; Woodland Figwort; Goatsbeard; Scarlet Pimpernel; Grass Vetchling; Bramble blossom; Fumitory; Love-in-a-Mist; Small-Flower Sweetbriar; Cock's-Foot; Wood Avens seedhead and fern 

This is Purple Salsify before it becomes Goatsbeard. (I could stare into its golden eye for hours.)

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Spear Thistle; Agrimony; Common Knapweed; Northern Evening Primrose; Nipplewort; Pink Yarrow; White Yarrow; Rough Chervil; Spindle blossom; Bristoly Oxtongue; Hedge Parsley

Cinquefoil had me stumped. Why 'cinque' when there are often four or six petals? Then someone pointed out to me that 'foil' is derived from 'feuille', which is French for leaf - of course it is! - and that made sense ... until I found some specimens with six, seven and eight leaves.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Poppies; Purple Toadflax; Ladies Bedstraw and Yarrow; Tufted Vetch; Meadow Vetchling; Flax; Ragwort; Buddleia; Mugwort

Bindweed

My favourite wild carrot in all its variety

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Common Mint; Burdock; Prickly Lettuce; Brambles and wild Clematis; Tall Goldenrod; Rosebay Willowherb; Hemp-Agrimony; Red Shank; Wall Lettuce; Teasel

Another favourite: Michaelmas Daisies

The flowers having turned up in abundance is why, as the June gap became a whole-summer gap, the dearth of insects was so concerning. After a late spring full of Orange-Tips, I was luxuriating in the prospect of more and more butterflies, but there were so few. Plus, the second consecutive terrible year for Red Soldier beetles. It was surely in part down to the disappointing weather, but other, more methodical observers of nature will doubtless have other, more worrying theories.

TOP TO BOTTOM, LEFT TO RIGHT:  Speckled Wood; Small Heath; Yellow Shell moth; Small Copper; Dark Arches moth; White Plume moth; fragment of a Large Skipper wing; Small Skipper; dead Comma; Gatekeeper; Ringlet; Meadow Brown; Small tortoiseshell caterpillars; the Drinker moth caterpillar; Cinnabar moth caterpillar; Ruby Tiger moth caterpillar 

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Buff-Tailed Bumble bee; Common Carder; honey bee; Bombus Cryptarum 

CLOCKWISE: Thick-thighed Flower beetles; Rose Chafer; Kern's Flower Scarab; Red Soldier beetles, Harlequin Ladybird; Rose Bedeguar Gall; Green Bottle Fly; Nursery Web spider web; Emperor Dragonfly; Rose Sawfly; Seven-Spot Ladybird

Snail nesting in a wild carrot

Summer is the time for sunsets up the field, and we went up there as often as there was the prospect of one. Here are a few. 

1st June 2024

2nd June 2024

8th June 2024

10th June 2024

17th June 2024

20th June 2024

7th July 2024

21st July 2024

29th August 2024

28th September 2024

'Not in your way, am I, Mam?'

And of course we've been watching the inexorable slide from sumer into autumn. Here's blooming June out on the development site ...

... at least until midsummer, when the mower went in.

The Field of the Hollowing Oak, as always, is left to its own devices, and grasses and flowers that were as tall as me at one point are only now dying back.

Autumn has had a slow burn this year ... and it has been wet at times ...

... but all the colours have come to the party during October ... out beyond Charlton Common, where the spindle berries are glorious ... 

... in the Small Dark Wood of the Mind ... 

... and in the Field of the Hollowing Oak. On a day with sun in it, it's glorious.

 CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT:  Crabapples, Silverweed turning autumnal, Damsons - sadly very few and out of reach, Black Bryony, Hedge Parsley and Creeping Cinquefoil

 

Lastly, I found a few bits of hoggin out on the fields and the common; always pleasing to come across traces of the past, especially as much of it is about to be lost under tarmac.