Windmills of my mind

One of the local landmarks is Ripple Mill.  No longer a working mill, nor even a museum, it's now a private residence, but when I heard a walk was planned to go up to the mill and beyond, I was keen to join in.  I've often seen it from a long way off, always a long way off and inaccessible.

This was the first sight of it this morning, right on the horizon.  Click on the picture to see a larger view if you don't believe me.

We walked right across all those fields and a main road to get there.

Beautifully kept and well shielded from curious passers by.  I thought I might be able to get a better picture from the other side but no.  The next thing I knew I was shoulder deep in rapeseed.

Either I used to be taller, or rapeseed has evolved into giant rapeseed.  This is a crop known as Canola in Canada, the name derived from from CAnadian LOw Acid, according to some, to protect Canadian sensitivities.  But also because it was developed in Canada from a fuel into a product fit for human consumption.  It had been used as a fuel in ancient times and still can be used for bio-diesel.  The "rape" in rapeseed comes from the Latin "rapum" meaning turnip.  I went on a walk and came back with trivia.

I don't like rapeseed in the fields.  It's an unnatural colour in this country but it seems to be everywhere.  This is the year of rapeseed.

We crossed the railway line, twice in fact, so I suspect we were walking in circles.

Lines of steel gave way to lines of new crops...

I suspect this is a very British thing, to have trees growing in the middle of your crops.  Is there a tumulus hidden under them?  I couldn't walk across all the newly sprouted cop to find out.

A village and its church.  We passed it by unfortunately. I believe there is a very good pub there but the leader didn't break stride.

Though I didn't realise it at the time, this was the gem of the walk.  It looked like an interesting old church with an interesting old graveyard and I would have like to have nosed around but it was, "Keep up at the back there", so I marked it down for a return visit.  Maybe not through the fields.

It turns out to be named the Blessed Mary of Walmer, built 1120.  It used to be the private chapel of the adjacent manor house, now in ruins. Although it is no longer Walmer Parish Church, it is still in regular use.  "Bring a torch and wrap up warm in winter..."

The bell is inscribed " joseph hatch made me 1635".  In the churchyard there are several yew trees, one of which is said to be 1300 years old.  Altogether, worth another visit.

After that it was downhill all the way home, literally, just pausing long enough to greet the sheep in the field next to Walmer Castle.

Little lambs eat ivy

Maresy dotes

And dozy dotes

A little lamsy divey

A kiddley divey doo

Wouldn't you?

       

Translated:

Mares eat oats

And does eat oats

And little lambs eat ivy

A kid'll eat ivy too

Wouldn't you?

... or, maybe, mint sauce....

Who said that?

On the beach today

The weather has been so bad recently that just being able to walk along the beach has given me hours of simple entertainment.  It was good to be able to get out in the fresh air and look at what the tide brought in.  Nothing exotic but it helped me while away an hour or so.  I present not so much a collage as a compilation of what I saw.

A ball of fishing net was would up so tight you could have used it as a football, I suppose.  There is a lot of plastic fishing net around on the beach, some pieces larger than others.

A hagstone, supposed to be lucky because it has a hole through it.  This one had several interconnecting holes so maybe extra lucky.  I didn't pick it up so I hope my luck remains.

I'm sure this was a hubcap once.  I kicked it about and it seemed like a hubcap.  It must have been in the water a long time.

Somebody's collection of shells was abandoned, not allowed to carry it home, I imagine.  I have my own collection or I would have rescued them.  They are , I think all of them, whelk shells.

Whelks produce the white papery mass known as sea wash balls, their egg casings, also known as fisherman's soap.  If you use the ball like soap, apparently it will produce a lather.  I didn't try. 

A ridge of sand along the line of the beach.  We don't normally see sand at this level but it must have been deposited by the rough seas.  Later the lower edge has been redistributed by the tides but quite an amount of it has been left high and dry.

It's hard work walking along the shingle but I kept going because I though a shot of the two kites by the fishing boat would look good.  By the time I was near enough to get a decent shot, the kites had disappeared.

You can see to the right how sharply the beach shelves.  Getting back up to the top requires determination and a zigzag course.  You could clamber straight up but not with a camera in your hands. 

Right at the top, a bluebell was waiting for me, a garden escape I think.  Wild bluebells generally have fewer bells on them.  Tomorrow is the designated walking day so with a bit of luck and sunshine, i will be able to make a comparison.  Even though it was up close to the road, the roots must have had to penetrate a fair way down.

That was by no means all I saw on the beach - there were corks, seaweeds, driftwood, gloves (not matching).  all sorts of things to keep an idle mind happy.