walk in the rain

I thought the rain was finished with so I walked up to the east of healey heights, was very saddened to see another of the saplings has been snapped, this time a 4ft rowan tree. I'll have to find a stake for it and hope it can survive.

This has to be one of the most beautiful parts of the Burnley area, so close to the town and yet so tranquil. From there it is possible to see as far as the Ribble Valley to the west, Whalley Brew, Pendle Hill in the north, the great bulk of Boulsworth up to the northeast, Coal Clough wind farm on the Long Causeway, and the awesome Cliviger Gorge to the south east. The landscape always inspires me in all the changing seasons, sometimes it is wild and harsh, othertimes fertile and mellow. After it has rained all the scents in the woods become more pronounced.

I was intending to go much further than tending my own territory, but as I was sitting on top of a fence the heavens suddenly opened once more. By the time I had got back down from the heights it was quietly bucketing down and my jeans were rather soggy.

Have noticed that a cherry tree on manchester road still isnt at the ripe stage, at least a week behind last year. A plum tree near the canal has no fruit at all on this year for some unknown reason. The purple common spotted orchid on the delph has flowered for the second year running, just hope no idiot decides to go and pick it.

view looking across to Heptonstall

 

I should have added this in my previous entry.

Stoodley Pike

 

Here is a pic of an old road I travelled down two sundays ago. There wasnt really time to go up to the pike itself, but I hope to one fine day soon. I must add that the view from up there is quite stupendous, Heptonstall church looks like a rabbit with its ears pricked up, way across the valley.

 

This year we seem to have had far more vetch growing up on the delph than Ive seen in previous years.

 

 

Flowers

In the 1960's laburnum trees were always in blossom for my grandmothers birthday on June 9th, now they are in flower mid may. Is this due to climate change or what?

 

 

 

Penwitchcamp.

Me and my friend Klur arrived at the camp near Roughlee at about 10 am saturday 19th June.The view from there was stupndous with Pendle Hill as a backdrop on one side and a vista of Burnley and Pendle boroughs to the other. There was an excellent view of Blacko Hill and tower also.

 

 

This site is supposed to be about nature so I wont go on about what transpired on the camp except to say it was a marvellous experiance apart from the lousy weather. It must have been the coldest 2 days in june ever recorded in lancashire. However it was good to wake up to the sound of swallows tweeting overhead.

 

For the benefit of any pagans/druids/wiccans etc who may read this here is something I wrote almost 2 years ago.

 

FOUR SEASONS

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WINTER

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It is Yule, the Solstice. I am  Ceridwen, and from out of my bottomlesscauldren the Sun King, the Child of Hope is reborn. A tiny seed, long nurtured by the insulating blanket of snow and leaves ripens and begins to grow along with the first snowdrops.

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SPRING

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Your light is very weak, but each day you rise that bit higher in the cold sky. I am but a child. I am Epona, wild, unfettered, free, as I gallop skittishly across the pale blue sky, and you shyly play hide and seek with me, peeping out from time to time, and I enjoy our playful games. You are still so small and so far away, but I know that you are the one, you have always been mine and will be again. I feel a joyous expectation build up within me, and in your increasing light the cold snows begin to melt, the sheep give milk to their lambs, and I begin to grow anew, refreshed from my long sleep, stretching upwards towards you. Yet still we do not meet or love.

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It is the Equinox and I am Brigantia. The rounded hills are my bosoms, the long swaying grass is my long pale hair, the gentle breeze is my breath. I dress in white and green, and my trees are dotted with blossoms, like pretty pink bridesmaids swaying in unison. The tiny birds chorus of my love for you, “Oh, come to me now between my hills, amidst the long grass above my Pennine home. I see you my beloved, so radiant, so warm, be at one with me now” You partake of my sweet fragrant waters and are made whole again. And my stream becomes a river coursing down to the ocean, mingling with the waves, to crash over and over again on the liminal shore. And you are awakened, and reborn a man, and I am a woman. We are together and I adore you. The gentle rains fall but yourincreasing warmth causes me to grow in stature as my buds burst forth and open into a thick canopy of green leaves. My cornucopia is full to overflowing, my love for you is endless.

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SUMMER

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At May Eve I live amongst the bluebells and I greet thee, O Lord of the <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place>Forest</st1:place>. You spread your green mantle all around and I bask in your light and heat. I am full of your love and the blackbirds sing sweetly of our love for one another, amidst the hawthorn blossom. By the Solstice you are with me all the time, I awake each morning and you are there, at <st1:time Hour="12" Minute="0">midday</st1:time> you are smiling down with passion upon me, when I go to rest you rest too for a little while. All my days start and end with you. My hair is golden, my skin is brown and I am gowned in emerald green and yellow. My perfume pervades all around. We are so complete, my joy for you is endless. “Oh, stay with me till the end of time, my beloved, never depart from me” But I see that even the brightest of lights cast the darkest of shadows and I turn my back on them and stay in your light. I am earth and water, you are fire and air. Your fire burns me consuming all my being, devouring me until I am one with you. I feel the scorching desert winds surround me, the light blinding me.

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AUTUMN

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At Lammas the corn has ripened and must be cut down. God, that is is necessary to cut you down in your prime and fruitfulness, to end it so suddenly. I don’t want to do this, but I have to, and it breaks my heart this sacrifice. The blood soaked rowans stand as a living testimony, I see them everywhere shrieking “why?” I bask in your dwindling warmth and call to you who is dying “Take me with you”, but I know that you cannot, it is not my time yet. First all my fruits have to be gathered in until I can yield no more. “Come, drink deeply of my wine, partake of my bread one last time.”

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After the great harvest my hair turns grey and my leaves turn red and fall to the ground with my tears. I shroud myself in mists of mourning and drape cobwebs around me. The darkness is now overtaking the light as you sink into your underworld kingdom, the chill only serves to remind me of my emptiness. Without your warmth to nourish and sustain me I can grow no more. I am fading too, all my colour disappearing leaving the monochrome greyness of awful autumn. All is silent, the little creatures have disappeared, the birds have flown, except for a lone raven who stares silently from her fence. That great cyclopean orb in the sky shines balefully down, making shadows of shadows. All is still and I am so alone. I cannot live without you my love, for without you I am nothing.

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As Samhain draws near I become Hekate, standing at the crossroads of life and death. My hair is white, like the first flakes of snow which fall onto my black cloak, my heart frozen like icicles. Winter has arrived.

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WINTER

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I can go on no longer without you. My life has come to an end. You are only a fragmentary weak light now, so distant, inexorably sinking lower. All around me darkness prevails along with my fast decaying leaves, trodden underfoot like my dreams. I must go deep within myself, inside my darkest recesses to find you again, but I cannot feel you, I cannot touch you, and how I yearn for you. Sleep, I must sleep, maybe somewhere I will find you again. I sink into the fathomless depths and as I sleep something stirs deep within me.

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It is Yule, the Solstice. I am Ceridwen, and from out of my bottomless cauldren the Sun King, the Child of Hope is reborn. A tiny seed, long nurtured by the insulating blanket of snow and leaves ripens and begins to grow with the first snowdrops.

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Cathy Bennett. August 2002

 

thursday 17th June

I decided to go for a walk to the top of Crown Point via Woodplumpton Road, and was quite surprised to see so many common spotted orchids growing on the embankments on the way.

 

On reaching the first cattle grid I decided to take the route by Copy  Clough, instead of the boring main road so over the stile I went, taking a downward route parallel with the golf course. The cotton grass was beginning to flower everywhere.

 

 

The path is very indistinct but there are markers every few yards or so. On reaching the very bottom, even though we had not had much rain for a few weeks, Copy Clough was stilll rather boggy so I trod on the bullrushes to crosss it very gingerly without getting wet feet. I enjoyed seeing meadow pipits parachuting down.

 

 

After crossing the clough it was uphill all the way, taking a zigzag route until it joined an equally zigzag path leading to a plantation of tree in remembrance of folks loved ones. Here you can have a tree planted in soneones name. By that time there was a steady drizzle and on reaching the car park the visibility was pretty poor. I could just about makeout the great bulk of Ingleborough up to the north, to the west the coastal line was very indistinct, certainly no sign of Blackpool Tower, however to the south east Stoodley Pike was in view.

 

 

This is a view looking towards Firemans Helmet on a clear day.

 

I decided to walk back on the main road and am glad I did because after just a short way I heard a cricket in the grass, the first one Ive heard since I was in Tunisia about 7 years ago. I could hear skylarks, a sound not very much heard these days, and 2 curlews kept circling around low. A hawk of some sort was chasing a flock of swallows. The lambs that were so tiny in march are now almost as big as their mothers, still trying to feed offf their mums but the ewes shoving them away as if to say, " you are big boys now".

By the time I got to Glenview Road it was fine again, the walk had taken me 2 hours.

todays walk

I decided to go for a walk mid afternoon to wake myself up, having only had 3 hours sleep last night. Too much on my mind I guess. Anyway, it was dull and dreary though not too chilly, but at least it was fine.

I got a few yards up Woodplumpton Road then turned on the farm track to the left which leads to Lower Small Hazels Farm. Nearing the end of the track a bird suddenly swooped over me quite low, calling "kee Kee" loudly, thinking it was a kestrel I looked up only to find it swooping over me again after which it alighted on a fence. It wasnt a kestrel it was a lapwing, one of my very favourite moorland birds.

 

I must have been quite close to where she was nesting and thats why she was circling around me. Upon reaching the farm I turned to the left to get onto the Burnley Way. A huge shire horse in the field came galloping over to greet me, I patted his nose but he was so eager to be friendly he almost shoved me into the ditch at the right hand side of the track. I ran the rest of the way before the track narrows with the hoss in hot pursuit. Towards the bottom section of the path it was completely overgrown in herbage of some kind, and as the path is very narrow and steep I found it quite dangerous as I couldnt see where I was putting my feet.

 

On joining Glenview Road I then took the turning through the woods near to Lower Timberhill and from there back to my home.