Adding (a glimpse of me)

I thought I would return to photo hunting in the new year of 2013 - but not this week.  I didn't think I had anything to fit the themes.  I never include myself in photos but then I came across some that included a glimpse.

Some gardens and parks add art, presumably to enhance the view. Sometimes they do, and this sculpture I thought did fit in fairly well, at the Salutation Gardens. 

At times I'm guilty myself of trying to enhance nature and this sunset is one example of using an added boost of colour.  The original must have been good enough for me to have taken the picture but when I viewed it on the computer I did think it needed an extra something.

 

I am also guilty of adding a little glimpse of myself, most frequently shadow.  I can't think what I thought this would show but my excuse is that it was the hottest day of summer, the one hot day of last summer (25 July) and it must have gone to my head.

On that same day I managed to produce what used to be a common occurrence, the finger across the lens.  It's almost impossible with my own camera but I must have decided to take my husband's camera that day.  It was a long walk in the sun and a smaller camera seemed sensible. 

 

In spite of all the artificial additions, I really prefer nature's own.  As far as I'm concerned, these wild flowers added more interest than any shadow or finger of mine.

A two-in-one post for the Photo Hunts. 

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?

A walk around an English village

A quiet walk in the country at the end of the summer took me to this very typical village in the south of England.

Going up the lane heading into the village.

The village primary school hidden behind trees. The old tree stumps seem to be used to keep cars off the grass.

Thatched cottages. The traditional thatch would be long straw, but this is the shortest lived of the thatching materials. Wheat reed is next most durable at 40 years and longest lived of all is water reed. These cottages and the following ones all appear to be wheat reed because they have a protective covering to keep birds out (not, I think, visible in these smaller photos). Long straw gives a looser, shaggier, "tea-cosy" effect. Water reed doesn't need protection from birds because it's more tightly packed. It looks more angular.

A footpath, one of many criss-crossing the whole area, leading into nearby woods.

Houses along the "main" road.

Another thatch.

Pond, with fish!

The village church.

The school keeps the village alive, but the local shop and post office closed, and had to be re-opened staffed by volunteers. The local pub has also shut down, a combination of drink-driving laws and no smoking. I'm not sure that's the full reason - I think they could have adapted to stay with the times rather better than they did.

A very rural place, quiet and peaceful I wonder how much longer it can continue without becoming just a dormitory for a local town.

St Catherine's Hill

I first walked to, but not up, St Catherine's Hill almost 5 months ago. Yesterday I finished the "up" part of the journey, though the further I went the more I realised there were still more places to explore.

St Catherine's Hill was a settlement over 3,000 years ago, long before Winchester was in existence. In 3 BC it was ringed by the ramparts of an iron age hill fort. In the 12th century, a chapel was built at the top. Nowadays it is a nature reserve, with butterflies and birds everywhere.

The picture of St Catherine's Hill which I took last February. The greens looked rather dull at that time.

If you click on the picture to open up a larger size you can just about see the stairway up the hill. This is what I am heading for, so that I can get to the top.

A little brighter this time as I make my way up the pathway.

Until I get to the fork in the path. Two apparently equally used paths and not a signpost in sight. Which one to take? I choose the right hand one.

And I rapidly realise it isn't the right one. I am faced with what seemed like a vertical wall of grass. But I am intrepid. Up I go, attempting to appear dignified at all times, even while sliding back down.

A view of the Hospital of St Cross, but not really in the direction I am expecting. Taking photos gives me a chance to regain my breath.

A view of Winchester, the more modern part. On the skyline from the left: the hospital, the prison, and Hampshire constabulary. The prison is called Winchester Community Prison. I'm still unsure what the "Community" part is supposed to mean. We can all go in for a look?

The copse at the top of the hill. A mystical, magical atmosphere, perhaps because it is the site of St Catherine's chapel (12th century), though there is no longer any sign that it was there.

People often meet at the summit to celebrate the solstices, or for no particular reason. There are quite a few places where fires have obviously been lit.

The path along the upper rampart, with the underlying chalk showing through.

Looking down at the lower rampart with a ditch in between. Rabbits all over the place.

Eventually I reach the stairs I thought I would be coming up, but I am by now clearly on the other side of the hill from where I started. There must be two sets of stairs.

I eventually make my way right around the hill, back to where my starting point, but still no sign of the correct route. I end up having to scramble back down the bank, through some more trees and clamber under a rail that goes along the correct path.

This was the way I should have gone. Pretty looking steps with a convenient bench half way up. If this stairway seems shorter than the other, it's only because the path itself climbs before reaching the stairs, and the route is more direct and quite a bit steeper here.

The pathway continues along the ditch between the rampart earthworks. But I stop here and turn back, because I'm running out of time (and breath). I'll save the rest for another day.

On the way back, I notice another path, this one running along the Itchen Navigation Canal. I believe it's part of the Itchen Way, and looks like a good route for a future walk.