Poetry on the Levels

There's been lots of poetry going on lately. I missed the most recent session of our open mic, Silver Street on Friday, as I was covering at work for my co-worker Neelam, who's on a family holiday in India, but late Sunday afternoon saw the Zoom launch of Finished Creatures Issue 7, which I'm very pleased to have a poem in. It sounded a bit daunting to begin with, with 'breakout groups' - eh? - being organised for sub-readings, but it worked very well and was an enjoyable prelude to the Zoom launch of my former tutor Kim Moore's latest book, 'Are you judging me yet?' 

Yesterday was a poetry day too, and it started auspiciously enough with two foxes making their way through the back gardens and finally settling in my neighbour's. Hopefully we'll get some more kits this year.

I'd been booked by Ama Bolton to read at Wells Fountain Poets in the evening, and as it was the first day of the Easter holidays as well, I decided to make a day of it and visit my friend, Jan, who lives in Glastonbury.

After the most delicious bowl of sweetcorn chowder at the farm shop and cafe which is literally next door to Jan's rural domicile, we set off for a meander around the locality, stopping first at nearby Meare. 

The Church of St Mary was locked so we didn't get the chance to go inside, but no matter, the mediaeval Meare Fish House just down the road is always worth visiting so we wandered there instead. 

If you're wondering why there's a fish house in the middle of fields, there used to be a pool here, as the village name suggests. It was large, measuring four miles in circumference in winter, and disappeared when the Somerset Levels were drained in the 1700s. 

Sadly, it too was padlocked and we couldn't get inside. 

We then drove to Godney along Godney Road. It was exhilarating to see the Levels remembering themselves after the recent rain, so we stopped where the road turns right and walked back down to the rather prosaically named Division Rhyne.

What the bright and sunny day lacked in atmosphere, it made up for with brilliantly clear views in all directions.

Glastonbury Tor in the distance

And even on sunny days, the pollarded willows lining the causeway look haunted, or, as Jan observed, as if they've been drawn by Arthur Rackham.

Stranger still were the celandines opening their petals and blooming underwater. 

Looking back towards Godney

Division Rhyne

After a light, pre-reading repast back at Jan's, I drove over to Wells, parked and walked down the former Gropecunt Lane - now Union Street - to the King's Head. It was a warm and supportive evening, as expected - no photos, but a residual fuzzy feeling that makes mementos unnecessary. The only bit of the day that didn't quite live up to expectations was the drive home, when I had to divert from the A38 to the A39 because the road was closed at Pensford, which meant returning via Keynsham and negotiating St Philip's Causeway in the dark but you can't have everything and at least rush hour was long past by then. 

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

Another Inking Bitterns business trip to Somerset.  As we whizzed through Glastonbury, we noticed, alongside the hippy paraphernalia, a profusion of green wellies, Barbours and umbrellas.  Maybe this is why.

This the view south from Walton Hill, just outside Street. 

Glastonbury Tor in sunshine

Looking west towards Brent Knoll  

We ventured as far as Somerton.  On the return journey, Nythe Road from High Ham to Pedwell Hill was all but under water.  So strange to see, up close, the fields turned to seas.  Through the car windows the ripples on the water seemed almost to have frozen, as if they were shifting in a different time.  

At Shapwick we popped into the church but it had been restored to within an inch of its life and lacked quirk or much of interest at all.  Outside in the lanes there were rainbows.  

At Westhay Dru popped into the Peat Moors Visitor Centre.  The staff mentioned how quiet it had been there lately.  I suppose it's because it's difficult to work out, simply from watching the news on telly, which parts of the Levels are navigable and which aren't.  

We diverted to Meare, which stands on the site of pre-historic lake dwellings.  This is the 14th century Fish House, which was where the Abbey fishermen lived and worked.  

Sharp-eyed Dru spotted the towers of Wells Cathedral nestled in a cleft in the hills.   

There was another rainbow arcing over the flood ... 

... but that's not much cop when it's still raining.

We stopped at the signpost on Mudgley Hill, outside Wedmore. Last October, it looked like this. 

Now it's somewhat wetter.   

One last stop on Dundry Common, with its grand view over Bristol that includes both Severn bridges and the Clifton Suspension Bridge. Then home, thankfully, to the warm and dry. 

(Can't spot the bridges?  Here they are.)