Return to Snuff Mills

We've had a lot of rain lately, so it wasn't really a surprise to see the River Frome this high as it barrelled through its gorge in Bristol.

The flow was so fast and fierce in places that I was glad Cwtch doesn't care to get wet. 

dog violets

There were a couple of young girls in the river on one of the quieter stretches. Their mothers were there watching, but even so, it was a bit of a worry. 

Cwtch in stitchwort

I kept half an eye open for kingfishers - and maybe even otters, or beavers - but instead we got ravens, which are hardly a disappointment. 

wood anemones

blackthorn

Not too close, Cwtch!

Although spring has yet to flood the Frome Valley, it's greening up nicely. 

'CLIFF'

Easter at Winterbourne

I wanted to wander somewhere lovely to mark Easter Day, since walking is worship and spring is resurrection, so I went back to Winterbourne to do the lovely dog-friendly walk there, only now six weeks further into the season.

This time Cwtch and I were accompanied by the Northerner, and the blackthorn was in full bloom. 

St Michael's, Winterbourne on the skyline

Ash flower-burst

The skylarks were out in full force and very noisy

Monks Pool, starred with celandines, seemed a lot less brooding than it had the first time Cwtch and I visited.

From Monk's Pool we walked through part of Bradley Brook Nature Reserve. The water was very clear in parts.

Bradley Brook

Brittlestem, I think ...

... and turkeytail

celandines and red dead nettles, speedwell, greater stitchwort and dandelions, forget-me-nots, bluebells, ground ivy, primroses, daisy with blowfly, a dandelion growing on a tree, alkanet and celandine, violet, vetch

Common Carder bumble bee, brimstone and tortoiseshell butterflies

This blackthorn at the side of the brook is full of flower and lichen and very atmospheric.

A rare incidence where we're waiting for the Northerner to catch up.

I know the default is to call lamas lamas even when they're alpacas, but these are large beasts and I'm sure lamas are what they are.

This is such a lovely walk, we'll be back again in a few weeks, when spring turns to summer.

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.