About Me

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Bristol , United Kingdom
Poet and poetry facilitator. Co-founder of the Leaping Word Poetry Consultancy, which provides advice for poets on writing, editing and publishing, as well as qualified counselling support for those exploring personal issues in their work - https://theleapingword.com. My sixth poetry collection, Love the Albatross, is now available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.

Tuesday, 16 September 2025

Walking to the end of summer

My left shoulder decided to go on a pain spree at the end of August, since when summer's sloped off and autumn's feet are firmly under the table - at least as far as I can tell from the Settee of Suffering, where I've been stranded for the last two and a half weeks. And since I can't get out and about, I might as well the post the last few photos of our summer walks around the Rivers Frome and Trym in north Bristol ... 


... though this is Ashton Court, and not near either, being above the River Avon as it slithers through its gorge to the Severn estuary. You can see from these photos just how dry it's been.



Ancient oaks in the fallow deer park



Good to see what remains of the Domesday Oak still going strong, though.


It's been equally dry up on Purdown, to the north. While we were away on holiday, one of my favourite trees, a large horse chestnut on the edge of Hermitage Wood, dropped a huge branch, much to the consternation of locals on Facebook.


And people picnicking just below Barn Wood were forced to call the fire brigade when they accidentally barbecued a large part of the hillside.



Conkers were falling a month early ...


... and this empty nest box looked like a harvest hamper.


The woods were lovely, dark and deep, though ... 



... and my favourite tree on Purdown - this lovely oak - seems to be in good spirits. 

There are few flowers about now, but nearby, in Wickham Glen, I found these wild cyclamen growing high above the River Frome.



Because the last time I'd been there was with Ted, our old dog, I decided it was high time I took Cwtch the Collie to see Wickham Court, just in case she ever has to sit any history exams. She was interested to learn it's where Oliver Cromwell held a council of war with General Fairfax in 1645, prior to the Siege of Bristol, and added that although she's far from being a Royalist, the Cavaliers did have the best clothes and her plumy tail being like their plumy hats makes her feel some sort of allegiance to both sides. 


From the River Frome to the River Trym/Hazel Brook, a few miles to the west, which we've mostly visited on their respective ways through the Blaise estate. 



Blaise Castle


View from Coombe Hill to construction sites at Catbrain and Brabazon 


Some lovely big bits of hoggin found in the woods


Hazel Brook


My favourite part of the Blaise estate is Kingsweston Down; in particular, the long earthy paths along its north-western flank that reveal, in glimpses, its previous life as a hill fort.



mallow


The woods are cool and dark in the summer, and are less frequented than other parts of the estate, and there are lots of little meandering paths that take you into the ditches between banks. It's a place of ghosts.




late summer fungi

While my bad shoulder means I'm missing the end of feather hunting season, I have to concede I've probably found enough this year.


tawny owl, green woodpecker, ring-necked parakeet, buzzard, sparrowhawk, jay,  crow, great spotted woodpecker, magpie, songthrush


this year's moulted jay coverts 


This is the poor dead jay I found in early July, after several weeks spent under a weighted pot in my garden. Now zombie jay. (And yes, that crackling sound is authentic.)



Fox skull from Barn Wood, Purdown

Sunday, 7 September 2025

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.