Feeling sinister

Fractured wrist  in splint

At the time of writing this blog entry, I am in sinister mode… In the sense that I am largely left-handed, owing to having fractured my right wrist! This was something of a surprise to me, because I actually did the damage at the end of December (when I elegantly toppled sideways off my bicycle on an icy towpath during a frosty winter ride). Being an old school stiff-upper-lip British stoic, at the time I sprang nimbly back to my feet and cycled on homewards, with only an aching shoulder for a few days afterwards as a memento. But while driving to teach at a London school three weeks later, my right wrist started to ache. Luckily I have a GP who is excellent at injuries and it took him all of two seconds of prodding to diagnose a suspected fracture of the scaphoid bone… Which an x-ray at Newbury hospital later confirmed.

Having not even heard of the scaphoid bone before, I was somewhat dubious about the need for wearing a splint, particularly as I’d been carrying on as normal for the best part of a month after my bike accident. But it turns out that this little cashew nut-shaped bone (located at the base of the thumb where it joins the wrist) is annoyingly tricky to heal once you’ve damaged it. Hence the fetching velcro and metal splint which I currently have to wear all day. If all goes well I should be healed and splint-free within a few weeks: in the meantime as I can neither cycle nor drive, I’m doing a lot of walking. I’m keeping my fingers crossed (on my left hand, anyway) that there will be no complications, so I can return to normal functioning by the time my busy teaching season starts in early March.

Kinnersley CastleFortunately I’ve had good things happening in January too. I belong to the Natural Voice Practitioners’ Network, an organisation for singing teachers, choir leaders and voice workers. In early January the NVPN holds its annual gathering, which usually takes place at Wortley Hall near Sheffield (see one of my earlier blog posts, Digging ponds and singing songs for an account of my visit to Wortley Hall in 2013). However, the NVPN membership has grown in recent years to such an extent that the main gathering was oversubscribed and a ‘mini gathering’ was organised for those of us who left it too late to book for Wortley. The venue for this smaller gathering was the beautiful Elizabethan Kinnersley Castle in Herefordshire.

Kinnersley Castle fourposter bed

Kinnersley Castle is still a family home, which can be hired as a venue for events. It is full of character – I was chuffed on reaching my room to find I would be sleeping in a four-poster bed! Our meals were home-cooked and plentiful, and the hospitality from hostess and NVPN member Katherina Garratt-Adams was warm and welcoming. The space that we used for our singing workshops and group sessions had a huge fireplace with a log fire that we all took turns toasting ourselves in front of (including Coco, Katherina’s friendly black labrador).

Relaxing with Coco in front of the fire, Kinnersley Castle

I always get a huge amount from these NVPN gatherings: not just song material for teaching with Sing The World, the Newbury-based choir that I co-lead, but also lots of useful ideas and guidance for all the issues involved in being a singing teacher. Having suffered from laryngitis and lost my voice completely back in September, I found the sessions on looking after our voices and developing our singing range particularly helpful. The NVPN largely follows a community of practice model for sharing expertise, which is an extremely effective way to support our professional development.

Kinnersley Castle: Katherina and Caius

Staying at Kinnersley Castle was a fantastic experience and a great way to ease back into the working year after the festive break. It’s a venue with tons of character and welcoming hosts (including the lovely Katherina and Caius, pictured above).

Chilly winter weather doesn’t generally stop me from going exploring. We’ve had some glorious bright sunny midwinter days and I took advantage of one to go for a walk with my friend Will along the downs in the Vale of Pewsey. It was a route we hadn’t done before, up onto the Tan Hill Way and then round Gopher Wood and Oare Hill, finishing with a loop over Giant’s Grave, an Iron Age hillfort and settlement.

Giant's Grave Iron Age hillfort and settlement, OareWe were glad that we had done our route in a clockwise direction, as the final descent from Giant’s Grave down into the village of Oare was precipitous enough that I had to run down it with my arms outstretched and making whooping noises. (A vital strategy for obtaining maximum speed with the minimum of risk to myself or other walkers coming from the opposite direction.)

Draycott Hill near Oare, WiltshireThere is something about sunshine in the depths of winter that is particularly restorative, even in the Arctic winds that were blowing that day. And the landscape of chalk downland always holds a special magic for me, growing up as I did in the Chilterns. The walk route around Oare is one I will definitely revisit, perhaps in early summer when orchids may be about. Even in early January it was beautiful, with red kites and buzzards wheeling on the wind currents high above the hills.

Festival of Light, Newbury December 2015Winter can feel like a bit of a miserable time, especially if the weather is wet and grey. Fortunately there are opportunities to dispel the darkness: Newbury hosts an annual Festival Of Light, a midwinter celebration where locals make lanterns from willow and tissue before joining together in a parade through the town. There were lanterns of all shapes and designs, including stars, fish, boats, spaceships and even a dalek and a Darth Vader! At the end of the parade there were hot chestnut sellers, brightly-burning braziers to warm your hands at and a lively band to keep everyone warm. There was a great energy there, definitely an inspired way to ward off the winter blues.

Another winter event which got people together was the Thousand Voices evening. Local choirs (including Wacapella, our Sing The World performance group) sang separately at various locations across Newbury town centre, before joining together by the Christmas tree in the market place for a mass sing. It was great fun to take part… I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard The Twelve Days Of Christmas sung quite so loudly before!

Winter trees, Snelsmore Common

In contrast to the gloomy and soggy winter of 2013/2014, December and January have brought a good share of bright days, perfect for getting out and about in. In mid-January I went for a walk across Snelsmore Common, a nature reserve on the edge of Newbury now managed by local wildlife trust BBOWT. This is a site both popular with locals and rich in wildlife and interesting habitats (including bogs with carnivorous plants known as sundews). Going back over a decade, I lived up a tree at Snelsmore for a short time, along with a host of other hardy souls seeking to prevent the dreaded Newbury Bypass from being constructed. The Newbury Bypass protest is well remembered by locals, whether or not they were involved in either the activism or the road building. I lost my heart to this lovely stretch of ancient woodland and like many of my friends it was gut-wrenching to be there when the bailiffs and bulldozers finally rolled in and destroyed a swathe of this amazing place forever.

Happily, activism and opposition to environmental destruction and social injustice is still going strong in the UK. As the media and political parties crank up their apparatus for the General Election campaigning season we’ll no doubt have more coverage than we want of democracy in action… But mindful of what’s going down in other areas of the world (Ukraine and Russia, for instance) it’s a good time to remember that we’re lucky to have a democratic system at all, flawed though it is. Being something of an anarchist/libertarian I’m not a huge fan of our current set-up, but I’ll certainly be voting on election day. The good news is that the Green Party is fielding candidates in every ward of Berkshire, which at least gives me an opportunity to vote for someone whose politics reflect my own interests. And for those who say that voting for the Green Party is a wasted vote because it will allow the Tories back in, my considered response is: thhhbbppppt. *blows raspberry*

Time 2 Act: march against climate change, 7th March 2015

There is a lot of brouhaha written and said these days about non-participation in democracy. Personally I think there is just as much radicalism and engagement as there ever was; it’s just that people have many more ways to express how they wish their locality and country should be run. Also the majority of us seem to be utterly unimpressed by the posturing of politicians and the ponderous workings of government, which these days looks increasingly like an old boys’ club of ex-Eton pupils.

If as some pundits seem to think our political system is in the throes of change, it may not be a bad thing. (It’s worrying that a few folks seem to think that UKIP is an answer, but I suppose all those sulking ex-Tories had to go somewhere.) My response to all of this is to get back into activism, so I will be going to the Time To Act climate change march in London on Saturday 7th March. The climate change debate continues but it’s evident that we can’t go on living as if we had a spare planet as well as this one, so why not come along too and make some noise in London this spring – if only to communicate to those currently hitting the political campaign trail that the environment is not only the concern of a minority bunch of tree huggers.

Rather than finish on a strident note, I will end this blog entry with a photo of a particularly magnificent winter sunrise. I never stop being grateful for this world in which I live… That’s kind of why I feel compelled to look after it.

Winter sunrise, Newbury December 2014

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed the day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

– ‘What A Wonderful World’
Bob Thiele & George David Weiss

Ychydig o law…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The talented multilinguists among you will of course have spotted that the title of this blog entry is in Welsh, and a very useful phrase it’s proving to be at the moment too. Translation? “A spot of rain.”

As a field teacher constantly working outdoors, I often use the phrase “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing” as a way of getting students to dress less for fashion purposes and more for the vagaries of British seasons. However, even I have found myself musing in the past week that perhaps it would be nice if it rained more at night rather than the frequent torrential daily downpours we’ve been getting. I know that we desperately need water, but as I cycled to the train station in yet another ‘heavy shower’ I found myself yelling “Stop raining!” As I write this, rain is battering my windows yet again, and the forecast for early May is ‘largely unsettled’. Thank you, Met Office. I think I will go and buy a new pair of waterproof trousers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Luckily, when I went to stay with a friend in south Wales in early April we had at least one day of perfect sunny weather. We took advantage of this to go walking around Dinas Head on the Pembrokeshire coast. This part of Wales is a National Park and popular with walkers, with a lot of steep ups and downs along cliff edges (vertigo sufferers beware). The glorious views across the bay to Fishguard and out across the Irish Sea are worth a little exertion… And a stiff onshore wind kept us from overheating on the uphill stretches.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love the sea in any kind of weather, so this was pretty nearly a perfect day for me: a long walk outdoors, fabulous views, sunshine and a picnic on the beach at the coastal village of Cwm-Y-Eglwys at the halfway point. There was plenty of wildlife to get distracted by along the way as well: gorse and violets, wheeling gulls overhead and even a rocky outcrop garnished with what looked to be Guillemots (Uria aalge). As I was carrying my camera I hadn’t brought binoculars along as well, although a helpful lady (who turned out to be an RSPB member) assisted with identification. If you are good at birds and can make them out in the picture below, let me know if she got it right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the way home to my friend’s house in the wilds of Dyfed we stopped off for a visit to Pentre Ifan, a Neolithic stone tomb dating from 3,500 BC or thereabouts. The earth mound that would once have covered the 16-tonne capstone and uprights has gone, leaving the stones standing dramatically against the Pembrokeshire skyline. As it was late in the day we had the site to ourselves, which was probably the best way to view it. A suitably peaceful end to a windy but gorgeous day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The following day dawned cloudy and wet, so we made the best of it with an expedition to Carreg Cennen, a ruined 13th century castle near Landeilo. Perched on a hilltop with what modern estate agents would probably call ‘commanding views of the surrounding countryside’, Carreg Cennen reminds me of all the castles I ever visited on school trips, when I used to clamber over ruined battlements and daydream heroically about swashbuckling exploits. As I recall, I was always an outlaw or daring raider, rather than any of the castle’s legitimate aristocratic inhabitants. Obviously watching too many episodes of The Flashing Blade had a lasting effect on me.

If you should go visiting Carreg Cennen yourself the most important bit of kit to take with you is a torch, because in the limestone underneath the castle is a long narrow cave that visitors can explore. In these modern days of health and safety obsessiveness it was heartening to be able to scramble down the steep narrow entrance passage, treacherously slippery steps and claustrophobic pothole unhampered by any kind of fussy warning notices. I for one thoroughly enjoyed banging my head on the low stone ceiling. Good old-fashioned British fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since school term has started again after the Easter holidays my field teaching work is back in full swing at Rushall Farm and for the RSPB at Thatcham Nature Discovery Centre; but I also had an interesting photography job in mid-April, covering the opening of BBOWT’s new environmental education centre at Woolley Firs near Maidenhead. When I worked as a countryside ranger in Maidenhead a few years ago I met Woolley Firs Conservation Trust founder Rosa Lee, who was passionate about her vision to turn the site into an education centre for young people. So it was wonderful to see her dream finally realised, as a result of many years of hard work by herself, other trustees, corporate sponsors and of course BBOWT volunteers and staff.

After spending a hectic afternoon photographing VIPs and children from St Luke’s Primary School I had a chance to admire the site and all the latest interactive IT gadgetry that BBOWT education officer Lyn will be using when teaching. You can probably tell from my photos on the BBOWT website that the centre will be very popular with local schools, and I’m looking forward to popping in again soon for a visit to watch Lyn in action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the weather continues to be on the doleful and damp side, I’m snatching the opportunity to get and about whenever there’s a break in the clouds. Last weekend I managed to meet up with another friend for good long ramble from Pangbourne along the Thames towards Mapledurham. The photo above is of a scarecrow en route that has been steadily evolving over the several years we’ve been doing this walk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the slopes around Mapledurham there are fine examples of Chiltern beechwoods, and bluebells were just starting to come into full flower. Wafts of bluebell scent drifted towards us as we walked along: even with the occasional inevitable (you guessed it) heavy shower of rain, it felt good to be out enjoying the English spring. I am particularly fond of blue flowers and there’s something almost hypnotic about the indigo-blue of bluebells when they are blooming en masse. That intense blue haze striped with light and shadow is a particularly British woodland experience, one we should value highly. That our native bluebells Hyacinthoides non-scripta are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and accidental cross-breeding with the non-native Spanish bluebell Hyacinthoides hispanica is something that all of us should be concerned about. If you’re a gardener, I urge you to avoid planting Spanish bluebells if at all possible. It’s not always easy to find British-grown native bluebell bulbs or seed, but it is possible.

Our walk homewards led us back along the Thames valley to Pangbourne (resisting the urge to visit Mapledurham watermill, as the entrance fee was so steep it roused our righteous ire). One of the less usual sights of the Chilterns that we passed on our return journey was field after field of peacefully grazing alpacas. I failed to get a photo of one, although I did take a picture of a pleasingly spotty horse in a neighbouring field. I believe the technical term for this breed is appaloosa. I have long left behind my (exceedingly brief) horse riding days, but a childhood fascination with cowboys will never leave me and I feel sure that if I ever did get an opportunity to ride the range, an appaloosa horse would be just the ticket. With me wearing a black stetson, naturally. If it happens, rest assured you will read about it here.