Archive | Poetry RSS feed for this section

Twas on a cold wintry day……

23 Dec

Ah what a fabulous walk this was!  For almost the first time this year I could walk on solid ground, not because there wasn’t any mud but because for once the mud was frozen.  After the rain we have had seemingly all year, it was such a refreshing change to have seasonably cold, frosty weather which froze even the deepest puddles.  So it was hat and gloves on, and a hot drink to have on the way!

Mind you, before I even got to walking, the camera came out as I passed the beautiful valley in the picture below – I thought it looked as if Santa had passed by in his sleigh on his way to deliver presents to all the lovely children ;) !

Image
Where is Santa ;)

I arrived at the starting point of my walk and parked in a delightfully picturesque village with its picture postcard cottages and leafy lanes.  With the dappled sunlight, it made a beautiful start to the walk – but later, the darkness would reveal something even more special!

Image
Dappled light on a village street

Leaving the village, the first mile or two took me down one of those quintessentially timeless Dorset country lanes.  With the crisp frost and the dancing sunlight, it seemed that I was walking in an age more familiar to my grandparents and I almost expected to see a horse and wagon come by on their way to market.  It is truly wonderful how some things just don’t change, especially in this fast moving 21st century technological society that we live in.  How grateful I am for these timeless places, these quiet moments, and for the ability to enjoy them.

Image
Timeless

Turning off the lane, my route took me onto a farm track, passing the farmhouse on the way.  Seeing this farmhouse bathed in sunshine on this crisp day made me understand afresh the pleasures of living in a rural area.  I know there are ‘disadvantages’ to being a farmer like having to get up at 4.00 am every day but, hey, as they say, ‘every silver lining has a cloud’!  Hmm, or is that the other way round ;) !

Image
The farmhouse

But just standing there gazing at the view…….well, you couldn’t help but sigh and drink it all in.  With the frost in the foreground echoing the shape of the fence, and the gentle mist settled over the valley in the early morning light, it was magical  What a morning, what a view!  Stand there with me and realise afresh the truth of the poets words, ‘What is life, if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare’!

Image
‘What is life, if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare’

But, move on we must, before the cold freezes us to the spot!  From here, the route winds its way across farmland…….and loses its way a little!  A lack of signposting and some poor stiles can make it difficult to follow the path, especially when one field looks much like the next, but this is all part of the enjoyment of a good walk, creating some small challenges along the way and making the compass and map worth carrying.

We have a good system here in Dorset, a system that allows any problems with the footpath to be reported to the local authority – you can love or hate the Internet, but how did we manage without it?  Within days of my sending through the report, I received an email advising me that the corrective works had been commissioned so next time I walk this way, the path should be clear again :) !  I bet they love me!!

One of the things I love about this county of Dorset is the variety of habitat and terrain.  After the farmland, the path gently winds down into a lovely area of woodland with the frost clinging to the trees and shrubs creating a fairytale land.  If you let your imagination go, you could almost expect to see little snowmen running free.  And then, it is out into the open hillside again to be greeted by the most wonderful view.

Image
Across the open valley

Lunch time was beckoning and I knew that there was a lovely village church not far away.  That is significant because it is always nice to sit down to eat but that is not something that is straight forward in the winter when the ground is so wet.  However, most churchyards have a bench or two which solves the problem :) !  I often think it would be nice if more farmers would provide a seat or two beside footpaths crossing their land – it doesn’t need to be a padded sofa, just an old log or two will do ;) !  But on this day, it was a churchyard, and a beautifully peaceful one at that, and as I sat there, the weak winter sunlight falling on the delightfully coloured gravestones caught my eye.

Image
In the graveyard

On these cold days, it is always nice to have a hot drink so I usually carry either a flask or my small camping stove which in many ways is even better because it means I can brew a hot drink whenever I want to.  And today I wanted to!  Sat in that peaceful churchyard with food and a hot drink reflecting on life is one of the pleasures even on a cold day like this.  And so often, these country churchyards are a haven for wildlife too.

The second half of the walk crosses some pristine parklands, with two old stately homes to pass, with the usual array of cottages.  I think the one below with its mansard roof and country garden must be the perfect place to live.

Image
The country cottage

And then a little further on, another old and now disused but beautifully positioned building which probably housed farm workers in time gone by.  Its days of usefulness are long gone and it looks forlornly out across the land that its inhabitants once served.  And yet it still has a picturesque beauty that enhances the distant view, and a heritage that stretches even further.

Image
Empty but beautiful

Climbing up onto the ridge just as the sun was setting, my route took in some amazing views across the valley.  The evening mist was creeping stealthily across the low lying land creating a mystical atmosphere which was lit by the gentle pastel colours that are typical of a Dorset winter evening.  And the frost that had lingered on the ground all day, grew crisper as the temperature dropped even further.

Image

Image

Image
The evening mist settles across the valley

And as I dropped down off the hillside again, the village of Evershot was sat in shade with the blue mist creating a winter wonderland.

Image
A winter wonderland

Passing through the village and out into the countryside again, I looked back to see the last vestiges of the milky sunset reflecting off the smoke from the bonfires in the cottage gardens.

Image
Bonfires in the sunset

The last two miles took me across the most perfect parkland with its landscaped grounds and beautifully laid out trees.  One in particular seemed as if it was standing out from its peers, like a lookout on the ramparts of a hill fort.

Image
The lookout

And as darkness fell and the frost grew heavier and whiter still, I walked on alone apart from the many deer that roamed free.  They were my company for what I often think is the best part of the day.

Image
The parklands

And of course past the old mansion itself, now looming out of the darkness.

Image
The old mansion

Eventually, I walked back into the village I had started from and it was there that the darkness brought to light that ‘something special’ that I mentioned at the start.  It was a beautiful nativity scene set up in the window of one of the old cottages, lit up and glowing with its warm light shining out into the cold, darkness outside.  I stood and looked, and thought what a great message, light shining into darkness, and a what a wonderful reminder of what this Christmas time is all about!

Image

Be blessed!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Until next time,
Your friend
The Dorset Rambler.

If you would like to contact me, my details are on my website which ishttp://www.yarrowphotography.com – comments and feedback are welcomed.

All photographs, poems and words in this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be reproduced without permission.

 

What are your favourite sounds?

25 Sep

Since I am a photographer you might think I am a visual person, and I am.  But I am also very much an audio person and I love sounds, not only music but all sounds – well, perhaps not literally all ;) !!  Many years ago I listed my favourite sounds so I thought I would share some of them with you.

The sound of surf washing over shingle

Image

This is such a beautiful relaxing sound, especially at the end of a long walk as the evening light settles over the coast and everyone has gone home – the time when in the words of the poet, ‘All is left to darkness and to me’.  Sitting in the solitude on one of Dorset’s shingle beaches with the gently washing surf is special.

The sound of the skylark singing on a warm summer day

To me, this is a quintessentially Dorset sound when walking the chalk uplands and it just typifies summer.  I will never forget the evening at the end of a great day when I was walking along the coast with the skylarks singing on one side of me, the surf washing gently across the shore on the other, and a fantastic sunset straight ahead of me.  Magical!  Just lay on the grass and listen to the skylarks singing.  I love it so much that I wrote a song about it once – perhaps I’ll share it one day.

The sound of children playing

What a cheerful sound this is!  Children have such a sense of wonder and adventure, it is such a shame we lose it as we get older……not that I have ever lost mine as I am still a child at heart and I deliberately try to keep my sense of wonder and passion as you will probably have sensed from my blog.  The innocence of children as they play is one of the wonders of the world.

The sound of a steam train

Image

Maybe it reminds me of my youth.  We don’t see them so much now but fortunately we have enthusiasts who still run preserved steam railways like the Swanage Railway in Dorset or the Toddington Railway in the picture above.  I know they were slow and dirty but I can forgive all that for the wonderful sound they make!

The sound of a finely tuned bicycle wheel

This may seem a strange one but when I was younger I was a racing cyclist and I had lightweight aluminium wheels and tubular tyres on my bike and when you got up a good speed whilst racing, the wheels would just sing with the friction of the road and the air through the spokes.  It was a great sound and a great feeling……but you would probably have to be a cyclist to understand it!

Sounds that travel on a very still summer evening

This is another ‘end of walk’ favourite.  Occasionally we have those very still, balmy summer evenings and it is really great to be walking the hilltops just listening to the sounds that travel across the valley, sounds like dogs barking or cows mooing in the far distance.  Normally you wouldn’t notice it but sounds travel a long way in the still summer air and they have a different quality.

The sound of push/pull lawn mowers

Image

Its strange how whenever you sit down in the garden for a quiet read, there’s always someone who decides to mow their lawn!  These days nearly everyone has either an electric or a motor mower, the former makes this stress inducing whine and the latter just makes a din!  The old push/pull mowers like the one in the picture above have such a lovely relaxing sound……..when the neighbours are using them of course ;) !

The singing of the blackbird

Always the last to sing as darkness falls, and usually from a favourite perch high in the tree.  Such a beautiful sound!

The crackling of a blazing log fire

Image

In the freezing cold depths of winter, there is nothing better than a blazing log fire that crackles and makes all sorts of strange patterns and pictures as you gaze at the flames.  No need for a television or music, a log fire is entertainment all by itself.  If its not in the hearth, a bonfire is equally good, or as in my garden, a chiminea!  Wonderful…….even if everything does smell of smoke after – well, I can’t smell it anyway!  When I was young, I used to take my dog Rex out for long walks and then together we would sit beside a blazing fire with the lights out and the room being lit by just the dancing flames.

The plaintive cry of the curlew

Walking through the mudflats at low tide with a myriad of different waders is fantastic, and there is no better sound than the lonely, plaintive cry of the curlew.  It sends shivers down your spine!

The sound of seagulls

Image

I guess they remind me of holidays long ago spent at the west country seaside or harbours.  The sound to me just takes me back to holiday time when I was young.

My wife’s singing

She has a beautiful voice although she doesn’t think so!

So what are your favourite sounds?  Have you listened to what is around you recently, I mean, really listened?

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Until next time,
Your friend
The Dorset Rambler.

All photographs, poems and words in this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be reproduced without permission.

Clouds

3 Sep

Have you ever considered clouds?  They are truly amazing and beautiful, almost a landscape in themselves with their ever changing shapes and shades.  They are so mysterious and transient.  You can really let your imagination run wild and free, seeing all kinds of things – I once saw one that looked just like a crocodile.

Whilst I was walking, and taking photographs of course, it occurred to me how they are never still – in fact I waited for them to get into just the right position in my photograph below so that they echoed the shape of the hills.  Then, without stopping, they continued on their merry way.  Its amazing to think that someone else might have taken a picture with this same cloud formation, maybe someone from another county or even country.

Well it inspired me to wax lyrical and compose another poem as I walked so I thought I would post it today.  Hope you like it :) !

Clouds

Image

Little cotton wool balls, way up high,
The fluffy white clouds scud across the sky,
Leaving no trace, just the blue,
Of where they have been or where they go to.

Where do they go when they are gone
From my view, having moved along,
To another place, another scene,
To other eyes and lands so green.

They have no time for standing still,
But they go nowhere of their own free will,
Carried aloft on warmth and wind,
With never a thought, never mind.

Like ships afloat the changing tide,
They have no engines, they just glide,
Where do they come from? I cannot say,
Where do they go at the end of the day?

You and I can sit on a stile
To take in the view and rest awhile,
Clouds do not have that luxury,
They just move on, constantly.

To hidden places a secret from me,
Perhaps not England, another country?
Those clouds that have enhanced my view
May feature in others’ pictures too.

And when their journey is finally done,
Do they die or just fade with the sun?

Image

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Until next time,
Your friend
The Dorset Rambler.

All photographs, poems and words in this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be reproduced without permission.

The Drystone Waller – if that is a correct phrase ;)!

29 Aug

Sometimes, well very occasionally, I like to try my hand at a bit of poetry.  I say occasionally because I’m not very good at it, but would like to be.  I’d love to be able to write fluent, flowing and expressive poetry.  Anyway, on a recent walk I found some inspiration when I passed a drystone wall which set my thinking, and the creative juices flowing.  I always carry a notepad so I composed this poem as I walked:

The Drystone Waller

Image

One on one on one on one,
The drystone waller’s day’s begun,
Stone on stone on stone on stone,
Lots to do ere he goes home.

A solid build as ‘fits his trade,
Every stone securely laid,
Sweating brow and breaking back,
Another stone goes on the rack.

Perfect symmetry, line on line,
Locked together, looking fine,
From random stones, different shapes,
A cohesive whole he creates.

The master’s hand the holding glue,
Nothing more, forever new,
Come wind come rain ’twill strongly stand,
And remain a part of this ancient land.

These scattered stones have become a wall,
So solid, dependable, standing tall,
For years to come ere he’s gone home,
An epitaph to a job well done.

Image

It just struck me that these random stones just laying around on the ground, in the hands of a master become something useful and strong, something that has a real purpose.  Makes me think of people!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler!

Until next time,
Your friend,
The Dorset Rambler.

The photographs on this blog are all the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be used without permission.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 157 other followers