A visual blog capturing the end of April
Despite persistent drizzle I spent an interesting half day improving my photography skills at Stone Lane gardens today. Our workshop lead was John Howells who kept his enthusiasm despite the cold and wet. A few tips I learned were:
1) Even when it is cloudy, it is still possible to take great photos - the light conditions are best for close up nature photography
2) If you want to take a close up make sure it is really close up
3) On a day with a blanket of white cloud avoid taking pictures that include the sky as it will just be a white block
4) Take time to look for interesting juxtapositions
5) Aim for a composition that leads the viewer into your picture
I have put together a gallery of some of my favourite shots - see what you think….
The Chagword Fringe
This weekend the Chagword festival was a real inspiration. It was great to hear so many authors talking about the craft of writing and their own experiences of working with words.
To contribute to the festival we set up an informal and impromptu festival fringe. We based ourselves outside the Chagword Café and Bookshop in Endecott House, opposite the Church and under the noisy rookery high up in the trees. Thanks to the Crediton Community Bookshop for being so friendly and supportive. On Saturday we collected comments about Chagford from anyone who would stop and talk to us, and compiled a Chagford poem. As you can see in the picture below the themes are mainly positive and provide a celebratory snap shot of what Chagford meant to visitors and locals on that cold Saturday in March. Perhaps the positivity is helped by the fact that we bribed people with chocolates and grapes to stop and talk to us. Not everyone agreed that what was created was a poem …it neither rhymes nor scans…but plenty of people stopped to read it and added their own comments including ‘Exit Visas Unavailable’…
On Sunday afternoon we displayed the ‘poem’ and asked people about their favourite poems. Some were very honest in telling us that they really didn’t like poetry at all. Others reached back to childhood to retrieve or partially retrieve a favourite verse. We had some great conversations, including with Betty Porter whose favourite poem was ‘The Cast Iron Shore’ a poem she wrote and had published, and which reflects on her childhood growing up in Liverpool. It was great to meet and chat to people from Finland and France as well as locals. A list of the poems which are ‘Chagford Favourites’ can be found below….What’s your favourite poem?
Some favourite poems
The more it snows Tiddley Pom…(AA Milne)
The Cat in the Hat (Dr Seuss)
Soleil, Cou, Coupe (Guillaume Apollinaire)
Sadeihmiset (EEva-Liisa Manner)
This weekend the winds are gusting at 40 to 50 miles an hour and we had some torrential rain yesterday…but all the snow has thawed. It’s a good time to reflect on the ice and snow that lay on the ground a week ago and record some thoughts on caring for hens in the cold weather.
For our three hens - born last spring and purchased from Weeke Farm - this was their first real experience of snow and it was comical to see them navigating the new landscape.
Once the snow began to thaw, as soon as we let them out of their fenced enclosure they quickly found the patches of grass so that they could have some greens to eat. It was striking how the thaw started around the base of large trees – for example the larch next to their enclosure in the orchard and around the apple trees.
In very cold weather it is important to ensure that hens still have access to water as this can easily freeze. Last weekend this meant bringing water from the house as the outside tap was frozen too.
We also provided some new branches for the hens to perch on outside their henhouse so that they had somewhere that was not snow covered for their feet. We didn’t keep them shut up in their small roofed run as they love variety and as much freedom as possible – they had the choice whether to stay under cover or not.
Last March, when it snowed heavily, we saw a fox for the first time in broad daylight, and the snow this year made us more aware of animals usually hidden from view, from the very visible tracks. We therefore took extra care to check that the electric fence was working properly, and this meant clearing the snow and twig debris from the base of the fence to stop it from running to earth.
It is difficult to know exactly what a hen is thinking, but each of our three young hens kept laying an egg every day so they don’t seem to have been unduly bothered by the cold weather.
There is some useful advice in the following blog about what not to do when the weather gets cold:
And this information from the British Hen Welfare Trust is very helpful too:
Planting yellow rattle on 23 December 2018
Apart from the short days, one of the things I most dislike about this time of year is that there are very few opportunities for planting seeds. There is something rewarding about planting as it holds all the promise of an unknown future, and it’s great to see small seedlings appearing.
However, one type of seed that can be planted in late December and early January, is yellow rattle (Rhinanthus minor). Also commonly called hay-rattle, rattle baskets, pots and pans or Tiddibottles. Yellow rattle is described as key to establishing a new wildflower meadow on an area that was previously dominated by grass, because it is semi-parasitic annual of grassy pasture land. After the yellow flowers have appeared in spring time, the plant produces brown seed pods (calyces) in which the seeds rattle when ripe.
Jon planted the yellow rattle seed in three main zones – some in the orchard, some on the flat lawn in front of the old quarry and some down by the river. In the orchard it was great to be able to make use of the mole hills as planting sites.
The reason for planting yellow rattle at around Christmas time is that the seeds need a spell of cold weather to ensure they germinate. The cold weather predicted for the end of the week may therefore be welcome for these seeds.
We recently joined Moor Meadows, an organisation that is aiming to increase the number of wildflower meadows across Dartmoor. Joining organisations online is another good activity for the depths of winter. Over the coming year we look forward to visiting meadow projects across the South West and learning more about mowing regimes and types of plants best suited for establishing meadows on the edge of Dartmoor
6 October 2018
An early October Friday brought beautiful weather for apple pressing. We had been harvesting the apples for about a week beforehand. Julie Marie and George had helped the previous weekend with supervision from the three hens.
It was difficult to estimate exactly how many apples we had – each full bag was around 6 kg and then there were some larger bags and two boxes. In total we estimated that we probably had around 60 kg, possibly more. Many of these are the sweet eaters ‘Sunrise’ that unfortunately don’t keep well. We also had lots of pale green apples that look a little like golden delicious from one of the older trees at the south end of the Orchard and this year the rosy ’mystery’ apples on the other taller old tree were also plentiful.
The plan was to make some apple juice but also to fill two new white 10 L Brewers’ buckets with juice for cider.
We loaded up the car just before 9:30 and headed off for Ralph and Jill’s house near Factory Bridge. They are one of the custodians of the community apple press. For £20 local residents can borrow the press and scratter – much more efficient than every family with apples buying their own.
Ralph helpfully showed us how to set up the equipment. First the apples need to be pulverised and then the pulp is made into ‘cakes’ enveloped in strong fabric and sandwiched between wooden slats
Within half an hour the apple juice was flowing. In total we did two and a half pressings and produced nearly 40L of juice. Once back at home on Friday afternoon it was time to pasteurise the apple juice. This means that it will keep for months rather than days. We also added cider yeast to the buckets of juice – it will be interesting to see how quickly the fermentation begins over the next few days.
I’m getting a bit fed up with the Black Sussex’s bully-girl tactics. She may be bigger than me, and she certainly has a sharper beak, but she hasn’t even laid an egg yet. She bites the humans too but they still don’t seem to realise it would be best for everybody if this spiteful creature went back to the farm toute suite.
At the moment the humans seem to spend every waking moment fussing over us; bringing us fruit and veg and even choice morsels like corn and mealworms. Personally I could live without cauliflower and tough old legumes strewn on the ground, but the other two seem to like having random vegetables thrown at them. They are also keen to go roaming whenever the humans open the Leg Trick Fens, but I can’t really see the point. Sure, there are fresh dandelions and plantains, but frankly I prefer the Layers’ Pellets that we have on tap in the coop. Plus, if the fox does spring I’ll be the one who can capture the whole story for posterity – if only the humans would lend me a camera, the middle-sized one is always taking pictures of us but never thinks to let us have a go ourselves.
The white hen may be top of the pecking order but she’s a lot less aggressive than the Black Sussex. I admire the way she’s always the first to venture out in the morning – I always think it may be a fox that’s opened the sliding door. Mind you, it was quite funny when she tried to peck through the leg trick fence. I don’t know what the humans have done to it, but she jumped six feet or more when she touched it. She tried to pretend nothing had happened, but I could tell from the way she kept ruffling her feathers and trying to look tough that she’d had quite a shock. It was good of her to test it for us though – I wasn’t convinced that the humans knew what they were doing with all those wires, but perhaps I was wrong.
September: A bat detector seemed the perfect birthday present for Jon. Tuning into the most common frequency (45hz) confirms pipistrelles flying just after sunset around the house and on hillside.
October: Darker evenings and Tawny Owls are regularly heard in the Orchard. After a commotion from the blackbirds their silhouettes are glimpsed flying across, into the field, ready for night-time hunting.
November: Deer often seen in the distance, throughout the autumn, then early one November morning all the apples beneath the orchard trees had disappeared. The deer had visited and feasted.
December: More mineral than animal, but the boulder dislodged by the falling ash tree in the storms was a true monster. Immoveable until a mechanical digger arrived in the late spring.
January: Pheasant plucking is a new skill learned from a helpful neighbour – also the supplier of a few braces. After removing the breasts it’s easiest to leave the rest for foxes.
February: The lower pond becomes the setting for amphibious activity – frogs not fighting but mating. Clouds of frogspawn appear alongside long strings of spawn from the toads.
March: A fox clear against the snow, padding the white landscape in search of food. Later in the warmer spring weather Jane rescued a struggling hedgehog from the steep-sided pond.
April: ‘Peak frog’ long past the pond is now awash with newts, mostly palmates with their webbed feet and agile swimming. Also the dragonfly nymphs that will decimate the tadpoles.
May: Claire and Ed helped us track a marauding cow – a week later there were twelve in the willow corner so Duncan the farmer came round to herd them home.
June: Damselflies are everywhere, including the striking Beautiful Demoiselles by the river with their delicate laced wings. Dragonflies are now hatching from the nymphs leaving eerie hollow shells behind them.
July: Three point of lay chickens are installed in the orchard corner, sheltered by the huge granite walls. After a couple of weeks settling in eggs are laid every morning.
August: Going to put chickens to bed a badger is seen gorging on fallen ripe greengages, then another arrived oblivious to the watching, a third was more cautious- scuttling away.
Twelve months, 365 words, settled.
I arrived at my new abode in a cardboard box.
Not very dignified, but at least the box had previously been used to transport twelve bottles of Chianti Classico
We have very few ‘problem’ plants at St Olaves, but one that is currently taking up time and energy is the Himalayan Balsam (Impatiens glandulifera).
On Monday we organised our first writing retreat. Seven colleagues from the University of Exeter came out to the 'Edge of the moor' so that we could spend a day together. Each of us was aiming to improve our writing practice and to make progress on a specific piece of writing. The fine summer weather provided the opportunity for individuals to experiment with writing outside as well as in the converted barn-space that forms the main room of our home.
The structure of the day was based on the concept of creating a ‘community of practice’ – Rowena Murray has written extensively on this, and describes the benefits of coming together to write simultaneously with other people.
In advance of the retreat I had a brief call with each of the participants, so that I understood what they find difficult about writing, and could ensure the retreat would be as helpful as possible. One of the recurring themes was that academics find it difficult to set time aside for writing, particularly given the widespread belief that writing requires large blocks of time. Getting started and staying started was a struggle, and several people commented that first drafts are more enjoyable than the process of editing and ensuring a piece is in the right format and the right length for academic publication. All of the participants are published writers, and yet during the day many people shared feelings of inadequacy and insecurity in relation to their writing – that it is not academic enough or not ‘theoretical’ enough. One conundrum is that people are often given the advice that they need to know what they want to say before they start writing, and yet until they go through the process of writing they don’t know exactly what it is they want to say. This can add to feelings of inadequacy and insecurity, which in turn get in the way of getting started and staying started.
However, on a positive note, people also reported that once they get going they often enjoyed the process of writing; there can be a sense of achievement in figuring something out through writing. As one participant said ‘My own writing surprises me’. Conversations before and during the retreat, and my own recent experience of writing, has led me to recognise that writing can serve (at least) two purposes. First, it can help to clarify our own thoughts - for the academic this can be about helping to move from a concrete, narrative description of a phenomenon to a more abstract or theoretical understanding. Second, writing is the process by which we communicate our ideas to others.
I am not the first person to come to the realisation that writing is not only a tool for communication, but also a process through which we form and shape our own thoughts more effectively. For example one of the participants alerted me to a book by Stephen King called ‘On Writing’, where King reportedly observes ‘I write to find out what I think’. We may need to go through a process of 'thinking through writing' even before we begin the process of writing a first draft of an academic journal article or book chapter.
What does this conceptualisation of the distinct uses of writing mean for my future writing practice? It has made me aware that I need to give myself permission to write in order to think rather than rushing into writing as communication. It also underlines the need to set aside time for this process of thinking through writing. What was striking in the retreat yesterday was just how much it was possible to achieve in just three 50 minute blocks of writing, but the crucial thing is to build this into my schedule. At the end of the yesterday's workshop participants reflected on how successful the day had been in terms of what they had achieved, and shared some ideas and tips for better time management to ensure that there is more time for writing …and that is worthy of a separate blog post.
Our holiday destination this summer made us realise that not everyone is clear about the location of Lundy Island. A postage stamp of land, not quite in the Bristol Channel and not quite in the Atlantic. Puffin Island, but also home to a good number of Grey Seals.
We had five days to explore and understand more about the local wildlife. The puffins are the major attraction for many of the day trippers. Jenny’s Cove on the wilder west side of the Island is the best place to see them, either bobbing in the sea below or emerging from their earth burrows just above the rock ledges that provide precarious breeding spots for thousands of Guillemots. But unlike Skomer or the Farne Islands, these are distant views. Lundy is large enough and wild enough that the puffins are not obliged to get close up and personal with their human admirers. But it was great to see the puffins back in numbers. Little more than a decade ago they were close to disappearing from the island, but a systematic programme to eradicate the predatory rat population by the RSPB has brought them back from the brink (rats are not native to the island, they were almost certainly introduced by ship-wrecks - rats really are the first thing to leave a sinking ship). When we arrived home it was heartening, if a little uncanny, to watch BBC Spotlight reporting Lundy's newly flourishing breeding populations of Puffins, Manx Shearwaters and Storm Petrels.
Lundy is also a great place to see and hear grey seals with their woeful bellowing. The water was so calm and clear that even from the cliffs high above they could be seen swimming under the waves or bobbing up and down like bulbous wine bottles. Last autumn the storms meant that most of the seal pups didn’t survive, but it is hoped that the flourishing adult population will be more fortunate in 2018.
Thanks to Sian for being our guide on a great Snorkel safari, leading us through underwater rainforests of kelp to see mammoth Wrasse, 'purple nasty' jelly fish and spider crabs shedding their shells. At low tide, near Rat island, rock pools also reveal the vivid colours that can make Lundy's shore feel like a tropical coral reef.
There are three lighthouses on Lundy, and many remnants from wrecked boats in the Marisco Tavern. The Old Light near the Quarterwall might have been cut from an Edward Hopper painting. It provides a great place to watch the sunset at the end of the day.
Surprising shapes and strange statues are, once again, scattered among the trees and ponds of Stone Lane Gardens this summer .
When Dawn helped clear off the view point known as ‘Pride Rock’ in early April, we had no idea that this would become the destination for a treasure hunt.
The previous owners Jon and Anna had named this view point 'Pride Rock' because it reminded their family of the look-out rock in the film the Lion King. This huge slab of granite has the remains of an old cast iron railing suggesting it has been used in the distant past as a good place to look down on the river and across to the impressive Redwood above the main path.
While clearing the rock of moss and ivy, Dawn and I discovered a short flight of old granite steps leading up to a hollow tree. Peering inside you see a strange assembly of lichen, rotting wood and spiders webs, but sadly no treasure.
Last weekend we welcomed several colleagues from the University for lunch and a walk. Eight-year-old Edward gave us all the excuse to have a treasure hunt, as a way of exploring the garden. The hollow tree behind ‘Pride Rock’ was the perfect place to hide some treasure and Edward did a great job of cracking the clues as he led the rest of the group on an expedition.
At the end of the afternoon Edward drew this lovely detailed map of the garden to show where the treasure had been hidden. We will clearly have to find some new secret hiding places before his next visit.
We’d seen them in the pond – a bit like mutant prawns swimming about and hoovering up the tiny tadpoles before they’d had a chance to develop.
After a few days travelling and in meetings in Luxembourg and London, it was great to get back to Devon and the banks of the Teign today. For the first time this year I saw a group of damselflies chasing each other, and resting in the sun on the granite boulders and lush vegetation. There were around a dozen altogether.
These iridescent blue-green damsels, nearly 5cm in length, are the male ‘Beautiful demoiselle’. Between May and August they are often found near the banks of rivers and streams with sand or gravel bottoms.
Beautiful demoiselles or ‘Calopteryx Virgo’ are mainly found in the west of Britain which is why I was not used to seeing such stunning coloured damselflies in East Anglia.
Damselflies can be distinguished from Dragonflies because they fold their wings when at rest. Their flight is also less strong and purposeful than Dragonflies.
On Tuesday we had a great morning in Hembury woods on a ‘Bat and Butterfly walk’. The aim was to see the Pearl-bordered fritillaries that emerge for a few weeks in the spring. Megan Lowe from ‘Butterfly Conservation’ explained that there has been a dramatic decline in the numbers of these butterflies (61% since the 1970s). However there are a few places where they are still doing well, and Hembury is one of them.
The aim at Hembury is to improve the habitat of bracken litter and dog violets which provide the warmth and food sources needed for the butterflies to breed, and for the caterpillars to develop. Ponies are used on the site to help trample down the bracken and churn up the soil which helps the dog violets to grow.
While we were walking through the woods, Helen from the Devon Bat Project described their work to reduce the decline of Greater Horseshoe bats and encouraged us to sign up for the Devon Bat Survey. Bats have also seen a decline in numbers, due to the reduction of open areas within woods. However there is still a large roost of Horseshoe bats at Buckfastleigh. Although on a sunny day there was no chance of us seeing a bat on a walk through the woods, the webcam on the Devon bat project website provides a fascinating window on the behaviour of bats in their roost.
Helen and Megan were joined by John who is the National Trust ranger for Hembury woods. He explained how the woods are being managed to create a mosaic of habitats and increase biodiversity. Priority species include the pearl-bordered fritillaries and small pearl-bordered fritillaries, as well as dormice and summer migrants such as pied flycatchers. The aim is to push back the edge of the wood somewhat, and to create some clearings so that oaks can prosper.
Changes since the Second-World war mean that old coppiced woods have become darker as the canopy regrows and coppicing is no longer continued. This results in a reduction in habitats created by vegetation on the ground layer of the wood. One area of contention is the bluebells in the wood. These are beautiful for a few weeks of the year and much loved by local people. However, although they provide nectar source for adult butterflies, they create cool conditions that are unsuitable for the fritillary butterflies to breed.
Once we reached Hembury fort there were plenty of pearl-bordered fritillaries active among the bracken. These are likely to be mainly male butterflies who tend to emerge a few days before the females. The sunny warm weather meant that the butterflies were very active and rarely settled onto a plant. We saw one butterfly up close, which still had a curled top wing and had only emerged very recently. All the fritillaries we saw were the pearl-bordered rather than small pearl-bordered which usually emerge a few weeks later. The cold weather in March this year makes it unpredictable when different butterflies will emerge.
Magnolia: 6 - 21 April 2018
Since the middle of February we have spent an unhealthy amount of time speculating about frog sex and its consequences. We knew we had frogs around the ponds …
Yesterday morning there was a fox. Clear and sure as an illustration in a children’s book on the white page of the snow.