BENEATH THE TREE

Sitting below this bower’s shade
With dappled light upon the glade,
The wind’s caress is all around,
The roots wind deep into the ground,
Dependable, strong, always free,
A delightful spot beneath the tree.

Branches above me joyfully wave,
The way to heaven they seem to pave,
Quivering leaves, a tremulous sight,
Always cheerful, springtime bright,
New life around for all to see,
A delightful spot beneath the tree.

The playing of squirrels above me, around,
A haven for lambs when the rain comes down,
Views down the valley, oh so green,
What better place to sit and dream,
Sweet singing of birds to serenade me,
A delightful spot beneath the tree.

With balmy sun upon the lea,
What better spot than beneath a tree?

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 is http://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.

It started in a delightful area of woodland, made all the more special by the dappled light and amazingly fresh spring colours in the trees.  Verdant new life that just takes your breath away!  As I walked along the track that wound its way through the woodlands accompanied by the bird song all around, I could not help but think of Thomas Hardy’s Tess.  I could picture her walking these ancient tracks with her friends as they made their way to church in their Sunday best dresses with Angel Clare not too far away.  It was sad that the event that led to her demise came in a similar glade at the hands of Alec d’Urberville!  Thomas Hardy wrote of such tragedy that seems to contradict the joy of this location.

The countryside of Tess

With these typical Hardy woodlands and the nearby open heathland that once covered the whole of Dorset, it is not surprising that his novels come to mind because sandwiched betwixt wood and heath stands Hardy’s Cottage.  Built by his great grandfather, this is where Hardy was born in 1840 and where he started his writing career so it is fitting that he wrote of the area that surrounded him.  The cottage, now delightfully preserved by The National Trust, could have easily jumped out of one of his novels.  Looking across the garden, you can just hear Gabriel Oak’s voice drifting out of the open window saying to Bathsheba, ‘And at home by the fire, whenever you look up there I shall be – and whenever I look up, there will be you’.

Thomas Hardy’s Cottage

Passing on down the narrow lane that seems little changed since Hardy’s day, I passed the first of several orchards, beautifully adorned with blossom and bluebells.  It would have been a great place to ‘stand and stare’ awhile…….but there was a walk to complete !

A beautiful orchard

Not that I got very far because just down the lane I came across a very friendly lamb who needed a bit of fuss!  So I obliged !  Well, it is unusual to find a lamb who comes towards you rather than running away.

A very friendly lamb

In fact it was one unusual sight to another because I hadn’t gone half a mile further before I saw the nest box below.  It seemed a somewhat random place to hang a nest box.  Needless to say, it was empty.

A random nest box

But there was more to come because just a little further along the track I passed the sheep below – for some reason all clustered together under a small clump of trees despite having a whole field of lush grass!  I wondered if they knew something I didn’t !

A ‘cluster’ of sheep

All along this walk you can see the ‘Hardy factor’.  Passing through a tiny village I passed thatched cottages along either side of the narrow country lane, including the old school house and the old post office.  These would have been two thriving gathering points in this small community in Hardy’s day but no longer.  As with a lot of villages, these ‘centres’ are no more as they have been converted to private houses.

The Old Post Office

This was a spring walk and that was very evident too in this village with one of my favourite plants, the wisteria, growing over some cottages.

Wisteria

Passing on through the village, my route took me over a lovely old bridge which had the usual warning notice about transportation if anyone caused damage to it – these are often seen in Dorset although it seems a harsh penalty – and onto a delightful causeway between two streams.  This really was a lovely part of the walk with the rippling stream on either side and a spectacular display of beautifully delicate cow parsley, not to mention a swan with a family of tiny cygnets.

The riverside walk

This was such a varied walk as the river led on to some lovely water meadows, rife with buttercups and with many relics from the past, including the old sluice gates and channels that would have been used to flood the meadows in spring.  This was the method used to raise the ground temperature ready for the planting of seeds to ensure a speedy germination.  Although derelict, these sluice gates are still in place, part of the heritage of past generations.  I often wonder what life was really like back in those days – I would love to visit but I fancy I would want to come back to this century!

Sluice gates and buttercups in the meadow

Fortunately the weather has been drier so the meadows were easy walking.  Before long, I found myself passing Hardy’s other home, Max Gate, currently shrouded in scaffolding as the National Trust carry out renovations.  From here, my route took me down a lovely track that Hardy must have walked many times when visiting his friend and fellow author William Barnes.  They were near neighbours when Barnes was resident at the Came Rectory.

En route to visit William Barnes

And of course this part of the walk would not be complete without a short detour to take in the old church where William Barnes was rector.  Standing in this church, you could just imagine Barnes preaching from the pulpit.  He must have had a broad Dorset accent as he wrote in the same dialect – not easy to read even for a Dorset born and bred man like myself.

Memories of William Barnes

And in the churchyard, another literary giant comes to mind – Thomas Gray in his Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard wrote, ‘Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree’s shade……..Each in his narrow cell forever laid’.  Such a great descriptive poem, and death is so final……..or is it?

Beneath the yew tree’s shade

And almost right outside the church was the loveliest display of ramsons and bluebells.  A fitting tribute to a famous Dorset author.

Ramsons and bluebells

It seems that I am forever passing strange sights…..or maybe it is just that I am always on the lookout for quirky and unusual things.  The picture below is no exception !  This is something I have seen a number of times before where the corner of the field containing horses is essentially blocked off.  I can only surmise that it is because horses fight if trapped in a corner so any potential areas are blocked off but I don’t know if that is the case.

A strange fence

Having walked cross country for a time, I reached civilisation again when I came to a lovely unspoilt hamlet with just a cluster of cottages, a tithe barn, a manor house, and a delightful little church.  This is of course the make up of many Dorset hamlets.

A delightful unspoilt Dorset hamlet

The church, dating from the 12th century and of unknown dedication, is set apart from the hamlet in the middle of a field.  It really is a beautiful sight and is another church being cared for by the Churches Conservation Trust who do a great work.  The scene below is just so typically English, but the sign always makes me smile – it seems to be somewhat stating the obvious !  Even here there are literary connections as it was in this little church that William Barnes preached his first and last sermon.  For me, the peaceful churchyard made a great place for lunch in the company of birds and sheep.

A delightful church

Having had my late lunch in the churchyard, it was time to press on along country footpaths, accompanied by skylarks singing their sweet lilting songs overhead – isn’t it amazing that they can make such glorious music whilst flying (it must be like us trying to run and sing at the same time).  Such a lovely sound that just lifts any stresses away and takes you into another place.  The sound is so joyful you feel that they belong in church.  And it wasn’t long before I came across the next church on this walk.  Another lovely unspoilt village with a very old church that had been modernised inside to create a lovely light, airy worship space – a real ‘ancient and modern’.

Ancient yet modern

My route after leaving the village took me across farm land and quiet country lanes with verges that were breaking out with a myriad of different spring flowers, eventually crossing a railway line.  Here I thought I’d try something different so I crouched down in the gateway and waited for a train to come along, which it did very soon……..and very quickly too!  In fact as it passed, the air pressure created almost knocked me over !  Well, it had to be done !

Whoosh!

I was nearing the end of the walk now but there were still more interesting things to see, such as the old King George post box buried in the hedge below.

A King George post box

And as I approached the end of my walk, Thomas Hardy returned as I negotiated a particularly muddy section of the track.  It brought to mind the scene from Tess of the d’Urbervilles where Angel Clare carries Tess and all her friends one by one over the mud so that they didn’t get their clothes dirty.  What a gentleman!!!

Where is Angel Clare?

And yet another scene came as the forecasted rain began to fall – I’m sure that is Joseph Poorgrass’ horse wandering free on the heath.  He’s probably at the inn again!

Joseph Poorgrass’ horse?

Before we finish, let me take you back to a meadow near the end of the walk – what a lovely relaxing sound.

What a great walk!  So much to see and hear, and so many connections with our literary giants.  I hope you enjoyed walking with me.

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 is http://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.

There is no mud to struggle through, there are no hills, just flat easy walking along the promenade…….and there is a lot of promenade in the Bournemouth area!  Nearly 10 miles of it in fact, stretching all the way from Sandbanks to Hengistbury Head and in this walk I covered all of it both ways !  That’s not to say there are no hazards.  If you walk at the waters edge, there are groynes to climb over and waves to dodge, not to mention the occasional Frisbee!

If you walk on the promenade itself, there are cyclists to avoid, skateboarders, skaters, the occasional vehicle, and of course numerous dogs of all shapes and sizes – what is strange is that whatever shape and size the dog is, there is always that dreaded extendable dog lead.  And invariably the owner is one side of the promenade and the dog is the other so that you either have to high jump over the lead or shimmy underneath, the owners seemingly oblivious to the problems they are creating!

It is a wonderful walk though, full of those typically English sights and sounds, beach huts of all colours, two piers, acres of sand, the crying of the seagulls overhead, the beautifully restful sound of the surf washing across the shore, the sound of children playing, bright colours everywhere, and the gentle breeze caressing your face.

Naturally it was a walk punctuated with regular stops for photographs because there is so much to capture, so much to notice.  With the amazing blue sky, how could I resist!

There are not only seaside sights here, there is also a lot of architecture too, ranging from Regency to modern as parts of this coast has been modernised and improved.

And all the way, the dancing waves followed me…….

……and the beach huts numbers just continued non stop!  Its amazing how many there are…….and amazing how much some of them cost!

One of the problems along this beach is that the tide constantly erodes the beach, transporting the sand in an easterly direction.  So at the time I did this walk, the JCB’s and trucks were reversing the trend by transporting the sand in a westerly direction back to where it had come from, lest the beach disappear completely.

I think one of the wonders of God’s creation is the constancy of the tide and waves as they roll onto the beach all day and all night like some giant perpetual motion machine.  It is awesome just to stand there and watch as one wave follows another and another and another……

I mentioned that there are numerous photo opportunities along the sea front, well quite often these involve people !  If you keep your eyes open and are aware of what is going on around you, it is quite surprising how often a good shot will pop up.  The picture below made me think of the three wise monkeys !

And of course, new opportunities present themselves as the sun goes down and the shadows lengthen.

And I always think there is something fascinating about the underside of the pier – I guess it is because it is normally viewed from above or from one side.

With the lengthening shadows, the evening sun brings some gorgeous golden light, hence the term ‘The Golden Hour’.  It is that time of day when the light takes on a special quality.

On this occasion, the sunset didn’t quite match the day’s promise as it did what it often seems to do, it fizzled out with very little colour.  But it was still nice, and in any event, that time of night is always great as most people have gone home and you are left alone with the washing tide and your thoughts.

It was a great end to a great day and it was with reluctance that I left the beach.  Nearly 20 miles of sea front, populated with many people and pets, busy and bustling even in winter, totally different to my usual walks but nevertheless, a really enjoyable day.  And I didn’t have to carry sandwiches or drinks………it was fish and chips for lunch, ice creams, and cups of tea whenever I wanted.  Very civilised !

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 is http://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.

Reblogged from The Dorset Rambler:

It took me ages to get this picture!  There were huge waves rolling in and I had my camera focussed on this rock just waiting for an almighty splash, silhouetted against the sunset.........and they all just fizzled out like damp fireworks.  Every big wave which promised so much in the end was found wanting as it failed to deliver.  In the end I took my camera down - well my arms were aching ;) - as I could only see this tiny ripple heading towards the shore.  

Read more… 183 more words

Day 3

Another fantastic day!  I left the B&B before 9.00 – well I was glad to be out of it to be honest……..having ‘filled up’ on my continental breakfast.  The B&B couldn’t run to a full English despite the £40 price tag!  The first thing I did was to go to the local outdoor shop as I thought I would treat my shoes to some new laces, but they were closed (unlike my shoes) – so I had a wander round the Cobb and harbour taking pictures instead.  It was a lovely morning, but very windy – I nearly lost my hat several times, and my head!

Seaside colours!

I picked up the coast path at around 10.00 and the first few miles were great as I walked through a nature reserve created out of the cliff falls.  The birds were singing and I was sheltered from the sun so the walking was good.  I think the best part of this coast walk is the variety – ridge tops, beaches, headlands, cliffs, woodlands, just about every type of habitat you could think of, and on this particular stretch, even some abandon buildings that have become ruins over the years.

Ripe for renovation?  The Lyme Regis under-cliff

It’s strange but I passed a lot of people on this stretch.  Each time I had to step up my pace to convey the impression that I was a fit, rugged, Bear Grylls type when inwardly I was just waiting to get out of sight behind a tree so that I could collapse back to my normal pace !  The trouble was that I would then meet someone else and have to go through the whole process again !

I was thinking as I walked that I hadn’t met any serious walkers so far, just lightweight strollers whose car would be parked somewhere nearby.  You can usually tell them by the size of their backpack and the way they walk…….and the fact that they have car keys in their hands ! But on this section, I met two serious walkers, and they put me to shame!  One who I got talking to said he had walked from Boscastle and had covered 400 miles in 22 days.  I can’t remember where the other one had started but it was a similar story.  It made my 4 day walk seem a bit tame!  But then, they were both younger than me and they had lighter packs too.  I’ve obviously got a few things in mine that they haven’t – must check my packing list but I’m sure I didn’t put in the kitchen sink!

A great place for a fried egg sandwich !  Beer beach.

After 7 or 8 miles I dropped down into Seaton, and quickly passed on through!  I hit Beer at 9 miles – the place not the drink – and I had a great fried egg sandwich and a cup of tea on the beach !  I passed a B&B there with sea views and outside was a sign saying ‘vacancies’ but 3.00 seemed a bit early to be bedding down for the night so I walked on.  And I’m glad I did as there was more great walking to come.

The way up

The walk from Beer to Sidmouth was great!  It was quite cloudy and there was a strong wind but it was mostly on my back.  It was mainly along flat, high cliff tops but unfortunately it was punctured every now and then by a number of river mouths.  Each time I hit one it meant dropping down to sea level and then climbing all the way back up the other side.

What goes down must come up

Some kind soul had even written the number of steps on the stiles before and after these big dips!  Very helpful and encouraging!!!  It’s funny but as the day goes on, I’ll swear the climbs get steeper !

Useful information……or not!

As always, the last climbs are the toughest, especially when they are not expected!  Going up that last climb, I had to go through several fields of cows, all annoyingly gathered around the stiles that I had to cross.  But I walked on through them – they can’t frighten me any more!  By this time my little toe was complaining, as was my left knee, although that seemed to come and go – the pain that is, not my knee!  It’s strange but there have been times when I have felt really tired even to the point where I have considered stopping early.  But then by keeping going, I seemed to push through the bad patch and regain some energy from somewhere.  Well, with this fabulous scenery, who wouldn’t.  Anyway, after nearly 20 miles I was relieved to see Sidmouth come into view and I headed down off the headland after that last climb.

Sidmouth appears out of the mist – just one more climb!

Mind you, it wasn’t over yet as I had to spend an hour wandering round the town looking for a B&B.  I thought for a while that I was going to have to sleep rough on the beach but eventually I found one, which was a relief as I really needed a shower and a cup of tea !  And not only did I get my shower and cuppa but I got a turkey sandwich, fruit cake and a beer too, thanks to some lovely B&B owners who went way beyond the call of duty and took pity on me.  And I was able to watch the football as I ate !  It was a great end to a great day!

Sidmouth

Day 4

Today I woke up to a wet, dreary morning…….so I had an extra half hour in bed!  After a good cooked breakfast I left the guesthouse and wandered along a damp sea front, although by now the rain had stopped.

A wet sea front at Sidmouth

Alone on the beach

The day started with an immediate climb from the end of the promenade over Peak Hill.  It started on the road, and then onto a disused road, parts of which were practically going over the edge of the cliff, and then on through the woods, upwards into a damp sea mist!

The way onwards

It’s funny but I hadn’t been looking forward to this as the headland looked daunting from sea level but I was pleasantly surprised as I went over the top much quicker than I had expected.  I was looking for yet more climbing, not realising that I was in fact already at the top.  From here, there was just downhill, lower level walking, which was just as well because you couldn’t see much from the high headlands!

Up into the misty forest

I headed down towards Ladram Bay, which basically comprises a massive caravan site which rather spoils what is a lovely bay with many red sandstone stacks just off shore.  Two things spoiled this part of the walk – one was having to walk through the caravan site which went right up to the cliff edge, and the other was the stiles!  I had a real struggle to squeeze me and my rucksack through some of the gates – clearly Devon is a bit meaner on space than Dorset for some reason !

Looking back at Ladram Bay

From here, it was quite a flat, easy walk into Budleigh Salterton which was just as well as my left little toe and my left knee were complaining quite loudly – in fact I was limping a little by now!  On a positive note, the weather was brightening up quite nicely by now and it was becoming quite warm out of the breeze – in fact, the last part of the walk was a breeze !  I even took a self portrait by balancing the camera on a post – well, why not !

TDR on the trail

I was in sight of Budleigh Salterton much earlier than I had expected.  I stood within touching distance of the town……and yet, still had another mile or two to walk!  This was because there was an estuary separating me from it and I had to walk inland to reach the crossing point before walking back out to the coast on the other side – a one and a half mile walk to gain just 20 yards!

Budleigh Salterton beach

My walk finished on the sea front where my pack suddenly became four stone heavier – I picked up four stones from the beach, a memento of four fantastic days of walking!

The End!

Budleigh Salterton seemed a fitting place to end my walk as my ancestors came from here.  Although I am 100% Dorset born and bred, I guess there must be a little bit of Devon blood in there somewhere.

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 is http://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.

Most of my walks are circular day walks but I like nothing better than just taking off with a pack on my back and walking wherever the mood takes me.  No car, just my legs………and hopefully a B&B at the end of a days walking (not as easy as you might think!).  This walk was quite some time ago now and the pictures are therefore quite old.

Day 1

It’s here at last! Something I’ve always wanted to do – an end to end walk over several days.  Someday perhaps I’ll walk the whole of the South West Coast Path, but for now, this is great – a 4 day walk along the Dorset coast starting from Osmington and reaching wherever.  Around 15/20 miles a day, can I do that for four days whilst loaded up?  We will soon know!

Early in the morning my ‘taxi’ arrived as a friend was giving me a lift to my starting point.  I was ready and waiting although still debating which waterproofs to take, how many layers I needed, whether to wear boots or shoes – it’s so difficult to know in this country!  It was 11.30am by the time I actually set off walking.

Osmington is a really nice village, very unspoilt and pretty with lots of cottages.  The first part of the walk took me through the village and along a lane which became a farm track where I caught my first glimpse of the famous white horse etched into the downs above the village………actually ‘grey’ horse was probably more accurate as it had lost some of its whiteness!  It’s strange but when I actually reached the top and stood by the horse, it looked like nothing, just some unrecognisable bare patches in the grass.  I guess life is a bit like that – things often look clearer from a distance!

Here’s looking at ewe!

Walking along the top of the ridge was lovely, there were lots of lambs, and the skylarks were out in force – it was beautiful to hear them.  The day was perfect, quite balmy and still, and although the sun wasn’t out, it was a bright day.  The only downside was that it was hazy so I couldn’t fully enjoy the amazing views.  I took my life into my hands a couple of times as I had to walk through some fields of cows.  Now sheep, they are lovely, friendly, cuddly things, but cows, they are a different kettle of fish altogether !  Anyway, I survived the ordeal!!

Mist in the valley

I had lunch near Bincombe and then dropped down into the village to have a look round the old church…..and to take some photos of course!  It was a lovely old church but a bit of a nothing village, so I passed on up the hill.  I must say I had no problem route finding, with my map/book and the clear waymark signs it was straight forward.  In fact I surprised myself!

Leaving the village, I could see my next target in the distance, about 7/8 miles distant.  It was The Hardy Monument and I set myself a goal to not stop until I reached it.  This was a goal my head had set but my feet hadn’t necessarily agreed with!  And they started to complain about it too – not verbally of course, but in every other way!!  Note to self – set shorter goals in future!  But as always with me, a goal once set cannot be changed or it means FAILURE !  So I trudged on – and it was a bit of a trudge towards the end!  But I was determined!  And I made it, too, without too many sore places, and no blisters.

Hardy Monument

I rewarded my feet by letting them have some air as I sat beneath the monument – i.e. I took my shoes and socks off.  I could hear my feet audibly sigh with relief!  It was funny how all the other visitors disappeared at that point !  Ah well, its one way to get the place to yourself.  I was really pleased as I had covered 10 miles in 4 hours and I was ahead of schedule.  I could afford to take my time a bit more for the last 4/5 miles.

Having aired my feet for half an hour and taken on some energy, aka food, I set off again.  After a mile or two the promised rain came but it was a bit of an apology of a downpour, thank goodness.  I didn’t even need waterproofs so they had the luxury of being taken for a ride without having to work for it.  I eventually dropped off the hill through yet more sheep with lambs, some clearly called Shawn as they had no wool, and into Abbotsbury, my stopping point for the night.  It was 6 o’clock when I checked into a B&B.

A bit of a sunset!

What a fantastic day!  I thoroughly enjoyed it!  And I thoroughly enjoyed my hot shower and cuppa too !  In fact, in the evening I was so energised that I went out for a walk, climbing up to  St Catherine’s Chapel that sits at the top of a hill overlooking the village.  By then, the haze had cleared and there was even a bit of a sunset, although the emphasis was on the ‘bit’!  When the sun had gone down, it was time to retreat to the local hostelry for a well earned drink.

A great end to a great day!

Day 2

Surprisingly after a poor nights sleep, I was up early.  I was dressed and down for breakfast at 8.00 and a great breakfast it was too – full English with toast, marmalade and tea.  Just what I needed to set me up for the day.

St Catherine’s Chapel

I was out and walking before 9.00, first of all climbing back up to St Catherine’s Chapel before dropping down the other side to Chesil Beach.  It was a fabulous sunny morning.  I expected my first few miles to be nice and easy as they are flat but I forgot they followed the edge of Chesil Beach which means walking on shingle – hard work!  It’s just the greatest place though and I spent some time trying to capture the essence of the place with the camera.

On Chesil Beach

All along this part of the walk through West Bexington and on to Burton Bradstock, there was a fantastic display of wild flowers of all colours and they were picked out beautifully by the bright sunlight.  The footpath after Burton Bradstock was lovely too.  There were only minor climbs and lots of nice flat, wide grassy paths – very kind to feet and knees !  They didn’t complain a bit even after yesterday’s exertions.

A myriad of wild flowers

After a few hours I dropped down into West Bay, which was just as well as I was hungry and also had no water left – this hot weather exhausts the water supply very easily.  Mind you, I had to take quite a detour before West Bay, going inland through a caravan site just to get across a narrow stream – it would have been quicker to have taken my shoes and socks off and paddled across rather than walk all the way to the bridge and back on the other side.

I also had quite a detour in West Bay too, but that was of my own making as I kept going up walkways only to find there was no way across the harbour entrance and having to retrace my steps – should have checked the map first…….but that is far too easy and sensible, and after all, I am a man !  Anyway, my spirits lifted when I saw a sign over a kiosk saying ‘bacon rolls and tea’, so I just about ran over to it – and got them to fill my water bottle as well.  I sat and ate beside the harbour wall with just the starlings for company – they kept landing on the table right in front of me and looked longingly at my roll.  I almost felt guilty at not giving them some – almost, but not quite!  I figured my need was greater than theirs!

Give me some food!

It was time to get on the road (or path) again so I said a cheery goodbye to the starlings - and they just ignored me.  Well they were probably put out with me!  With lunch inside me and 10 miles behind me, I walked with a new spring in my step – until I saw Golden Cap, the highest point on the south coast of England, in the distance.  I would have to climb that later, but there were numerous others before and after as well.  Its funny how sights like that can suddenly sap your energy !  Anyway, I ignored it and carried on.

Do I really have to climb that?

The views from the top of each peak were amazing…….but why do they have to make them so difficult to get to?  Why can’t someone invent an eco friendly country escalator?  Golden Cap, when I reached it, was a difficult climb, especially after 15 miles of walking.  My feet and legs were now complaining in unison!  My body was soaking up water like a sponge too and I had very little left.  But when I reached the top, it was worth it…….because I could sit down !  The annoying thing was that there were people on the top which meant I had to pretend to be climbing it easily – well it wouldn’t do to let people know I am not a superwalker !  There is a need to create the impression that I am strong, energetic and young.  Vanity, vanity!!

From Golden Cap

The disappointing thing was that having reached the pinnacle on this days walking, I still had another three and a half miles to walk…..and more climbs!  In fact the last climb of the day was the toughest, with a heavy pack and virtually no water, I was relieved when I reached the top.  I just kept telling myself that all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time and I would get there.  Simples!  Yeah right!!

Showing the way

From this point, my route took me down hill into Charmouth where because of cliff falls I would have to follow the road into Lyme Regis, my stopping point for the day.  Walking along a road with noisy traffic flying past is not my idea of fun but I was determined that I would still walk it even though I had already walked 20 miles.  And then, after a mile or two of torture I spied……..a bus stop!  And not only that, but a bus was due in 5 minutes !  It was just meant to be, so I did!

The Cobb, Lyme Regis

Tired but happy, I checked into a B&B – which was no easy task as they were all fully booked!  It was something of a disappointment after last night’s accommodation but I was so tired that I didn’t care!  After a refreshing shower and cuppa, I went off for……..you guessed it……..a walk!

Day 3 – to follow next time

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 is http://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.

It took me ages to get this picture!  There were huge waves rolling in and I had my camera focussed on this rock just waiting for an almighty splash, silhouetted against the sunset………and they all just fizzled out like damp fireworks.  Every big wave which promised so much in the end was found wanting as it failed to deliver.  In the end I took my camera down – well my arms were aching – as I could only see this tiny ripple heading towards the shore.  And yet that insignificant wave created this huge splash.  Fortunately I managed to get my camera up again and grab the shot just in time, and I could go home satisfied !

The moral of this tale is that we all feel like little waves and that everyone around us is making a so much bigger splash than we are, having so much more impact in this world.  But don’t fret, small waves often make the BIGGEST splash!  I know someone whose work on this earth only lasted 3 years but my, what a massive splash He made!  So to every little wave, just keep rolling and keep splashing, you may never know the impact you are having!

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 is http://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.

Repairing the foreshore

This is a ferry that I have travelled on all my life, in fact I travelled this even before I was born…..in my mother’s womb !  I like it so much that I bought a metre of the chain to add to the cornucopia of quirky things that I have collected on my walks over the years and that now adorn my garden.  Why only a metre?  Well, it is heavy and it took two of us to lift just that length into the car!  The chains are each 1,235 feet long and are replaced every 15 to 18 months because they stretch and wear out – so I have a very small piece of history in my garden !

Getting off the ferry is like entering another world, we leave one side inhabited by man and land on the other side inhabited by nature.  Suddenly we are transported from some of the most expensive real estate in the world into the wide open spaces with three miles of the most broad, clean, sandy beaches you could wish to find!

Wide open spaces

Flanked by the most delightful sand dunes and beyond that, acres of heather clad heathland – entering this world, you just revel in the sense of freedom and with the bracing wind blowing off the sea, you can just feel yourself coming alive!  No matter how many times I walk this beach, I never lose that wonderful sense of freedom………and I never run out of new photos to take!

The beauty of the sand dunes

On this day the wind was strong and the waves rolled relentlessly to the shore, one after the other without losing any momentum.  As one finally dissipates its energy onto the beach, another three pile in behind it, like some perpetual motion machine.  Standing on the shore, you get some sense of what King Canute must have felt!  And that great Iona song, ‘Wave After Wave’ comes to mind.

Three in a row

Even with their relentless and unceasing power, the waves do not have it all their own way as the wind seemingly does battle with them, whipping the tops off as they break.  What an amazing sight and one that a photo can never do justice to.  As we stand watching the dancing waves and flitting spray carrying out their performance, it is like watching a well choreographed stage show, only so much better!  Ah the wonders of God’s creation completely outdoes the best that man can offer!

Whipping the wave tops

Even the clouds seem to join in as they hover like giant airships!  As we watch them, we can’t help but let our imaginations run free and wonder what it would be like to stand on top and see the world from their perspective.

A hovering airship!

This beach is not only a walker’s paradise but it is a horse rider’s paradise too as the local stables offer beach rides in the winter months.  The picture below just typifies freedom to me.

Freedom

But it is time for us to leave this captivating scene and head on with our walk.  Passing through a delightful village, we cross the graveyard that surrounds the beautiful Norman church and it is alive with snowdrops – a timely reminder that spring, and new birth, is not too far away.

Snowdrops in the churchyard

And then beyond the village we are met with a stiff climb that takes us up onto a ridge of hills and once again we are met with that same bracing wind that has us reaching for our gloves again.  From here we have amazing views back across the village and beyond we can see almost the whole of the four miles we have walked so far.  In the summer, these hills are rife with skylarks rising high above but today, it is a bird of a very different kind that sings overhead!

What a view

With a thunderous roar, like a giant bird coming out of the sun, the Chinook appears…..and it will accompany us for some time.  This is a military machine on manoevers, landing on the headland and hovering over the water by turns, depositing and picking up troops on a training exercise.  With precision timing, it is another, if different, spectacle to behold.  As much as I love the solitude and silence of the countryside, these helicopters make an awesome sight with their massive power and yet incredible manoeuvrability - to quote Cassius Clay, they ‘float like a butterfly and sting like a bee’!

A bird of a different kind

With the Chinook following us, we continue on our way round the famous landmark that is Old Harry Rocks with its strong tidal race curving around the headland.  A few years ago I kayaked round these stacks which was easy and great fun on the way out but somewhat more difficult on the way back, fighting a fast flowing tide.  By the time I reached the safety of the beach, my arms felt like lead but it was great to see this chalk headland from a different viewpoint.

Old Harry Rocks

Having stopped off to enjoy a flask of hot Bovril at the top of the chalk cliffs in the one sheltered spot that was available, we continue along the track that leads back to the beach as for the last three miles, we would be retracing our steps from earlier in the day.  By now the tide had gone out, revealing another of those quirky things that litter this coast.

This is The Training Bank, a man made reef of rocks laid to help maintain the deep water channel through the entrance to Poole Harbour by directing the tidal flow.  This is only visible at low tide and it makes an interesting spectacle stretching out across the bay towards Old Harry Rocks.

The Training Bank

One of the amazing things about The Training Bank is the beautiful red seaweed which clothes all of the rocks.

Red seaweed

I love walking the beach as the sun sets.  Apart from the wonderful peace, the soft evening light and low tide just seem to bring out the most beautiful patterns in the sand.  It is a sight that I can never resist photographing!

Patterns in the sand

As we near the end of the walk, we have to cross several streams that are watersheds from the heathland.  These are normally shallow and no bother to cross but with the rain that we have had in recent times, they were somewhat deeper than normal and the result of this is………wet feet!  Ah well, I normally manage to get wet feet anyway as I am usually so busy taking pictures at the water’s edge that I don’t notice the incoming tide reaching out to grab me by the ankles !  Reflecting the post sunset glow in the sky, these little streams do make picturesque subjects for the camera !

Watershed wonder

And of course, the dunes with their Marram Grass also provide some photographic fodder !

Sunset in the dunes

And so finally after a fantastic day along the Dorset coast we reach the ferry again.  Now that the sun has gone, the temperature dips to below freezing so the little bit of protection that the ferry provides is welcome.  And we take the ride back across the harbour entrance with just the last remaining glow in the sky.  What a great day!

A twilight journey back

Thanks for joining me on this walk – I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

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 is http://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.

This walk started from a wonderful Dorset village, probably one of the prettiest you could wish to see, a designer village that exists simply because one man didn’t want the view from his manor house spoilt by houses and cottages!  But more of that later.

A designer village cottage

The village nestles in a valley with its single street lined on both sides with identical cottages and with its almshouses and church part way down.  These cottages are always picturesque but with the myriad icicles hanging from the eaves of each one, they took on a real fairy story look – you could almost expect to see Hansel and Gretel appear from the doorway!

I have said that the cottages are all identical, and they are from the outside, but internally they now differ.  With their single front door, you would imagine that they were all built as substantial single dwellings but in fact they were semi-detached – inside the front door of each was a lobby with secondary front doors into separate cottages on each side.  There was much overcrowding in the days when these were built and it is said that at one time as many as 36 people lived in one of these small cottages……with two bedrooms!  Many have now been knocked into one single larger cottage.

The post office and shop

As I walked down this street, I met one of the villagers and we fell into conversation – I was to bump into him again later in the walk.  He had lived in the village for 14 months and was undertaking a project to film the village through the year.  Naturally with rare snow on the ground, he was making the most of this as he captured the scene!  As I left him and continued down the road, I wondered if he was still filming and if I would feature in his production!

A beautiful lane

From the village, my route took me down a lovely lane with parkland on each side and past one of the many manor houses that stand in the area.  High on the side of the hill, this manor house had commanding views across this beautiful valley.

One of the manor houses

But this manor house would pale into insignificance compared to the main feature in this part of Dorset, the magnificent Milton Abbey and House.

Milton Abbey and its grounds

The abbey was originally founded in 925 by King Athelstan although those buildings were destroyed by fire in 1309.  The current abbey dates from the 14th and 15th century and as huge as the church is, it is only a fraction of what it was meant to be as the eastern chapels have been demolished and the main nave was never built.  An interesting story is told of John Tregonwell who at the age of 5 fell from the tower……and lived!  It seems that his petticoat which was the fashion of the day acted as a parachute, enabling him to ‘land’ safely!

The parkland around the abbey, designed by Capability Brown, is truly magnificent and my walk took me through this beautiful countryside.

Through the parkland

Coming to the end of the lane in the picture above gives us a chance to turn and look back at not only the church itself but also the impressive mansion that is attached to it.  This was the home of Joseph Damer, later Lord Milton.  He bought the estate from the Tregonwell family who had acquired the abbey after the dissolution of the monasteries to use as their private residence.  Joseph Damer had the ‘new’ mansion built in 1774.

At the time, the village, then known as Middleton, was below it in the valley but Joseph Damer did not like his view being ‘spoilt’ by the cottages so he had them all demolished and built a new village out of sight round the corner!  As hard as that was for the then villagers, one of whom refused to leave and had to be literally flooded out, I guess we have him to thank for the picturesque 18th century designer village we now see.

The abbey and house, as is often the case with old mansions, has now been turned into a private school.

Across the Capability Brown parkland

But we must move on!  For a short time, our route takes us along a quiet country lane where I again bumped into my friend with his camera filming a different view of village life.  And in the distance we can see the next unspoilt village on this walk.

Down the country lane

But we don’t stay on the road long before detouring across the fields and footpaths to reach that village.

Across fields and footpaths

Eventually the path brings us out to another of those quintessentially Dorset villages with its delightful thatched cottages and its church standing proud in the centre.

An unspoilt Dorset village

It is always a pleasure walking through this interesting village whatever the time of year but all too soon, we have to head out into the country again to climb up to one of the highest points in Dorset with its amazing views over the Blackmore Vale and across four different counties.

The route up will take us through varied scenery.

Through beautiful woodlands…….

……..through lovely open farmland…….

…….and out onto the open hillside with another of my favourite views back down the valley.  Amazingly, the gorse here was still in flower and provided a lovely splash of yellow in a monochrome landscape.

On the open hillside

Reaching the ridge of the hill, my route took me along the country lane which was a blessing because the views are spectacular and walking on the road means that you can enjoy the scenery to the full without having to look where you are walking……..well, apart from the occasional patch of ice !  Now I know why I carry a walking pole – it has saved my backside several times !

The Blackmore Vale

Soon though I had to turn off the road and drop down into another snowy valley and along this section, it was 12 inches deep in places………apart from where the sheep had worn it away in their quest to find grass.

Snow grazing!

And I even managed to find some virgin snow, not yet walked upon, it almost seemed a shame to spoil it.  I never could resist a gate or stile and in the virgin snow, this gate looked particularly attractive.

The gate and the virgin snow

So I spoilt the snow by walking across it and then continued down the valley along a lovely farm lane.

Looking both ways!

As I was walking down this section, the clouds produced a spectacular display and it seemed like it was just for me as it added a different dimension to the pictures.  Eventually I had to climb up the side of the valley again and spoil yet more virgin snow which came up to my knees making it hard work climbing up what wasn’t really a very steep hill.  But there is always something special about being the first person to walk in the snow !

Almost too lovely to spoil!

And it was the same as I crossed the next field; and looking back with the snow, the sunshine and the blue sky, it was quite breathtaking.  Just stand with me a moment and admire the creator’s handiwork.  ’The fool has said in his heart there is no God’.

Rolling hills of snow

And so it was on down the farm track again where I could feel less guilty because the tractors had already christened the snow !  It was along this section that there was a sad sight – animal tracks in the snow with drops of blood at regular intervals !  I wondered what had made the tracks and whether they had survived……..I hope so!

Tractor tracks

We are nearing the end of the walk now but there is yet another valley to drop into and a view made all the better by the foreground stubble that has managed to poke through the layer of snow on this more sheltered side of the hill.  With the patchwork quilt of snowy fields on the opposite hillside, it made a delightful view as the light faded into evening.

In the fading light

And so my route brought me full circle as I dropped into the designer village again to pass the now redundant old school with its streetlamp shining brightly out into the gathering gloom.  And the rows of cottages in the distance seem to welcome me back.

The old school

As I look back at this walk, it brings back such great memories, memories of post card perfect views across not only a designer village but also a designer landscape with its natural beauty enhanced by a heavy fall of snow.  It was a 12 mile walk that felt more like 20, but it was 20 miles of heaven on earth !  But aren’t all walks in this amazing creation like that?

I have put up more pictures than I normally would but I hope you have enjoyed walking with me!

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 is http://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.

The walk started quite straightforwardly with a gentle downhill stroll from a small village towards the coast.  In fact, it wasn’t really straight forward at all because, as has been usual in Dorset over recent months, there was thick and slippery mud everywhere, not conducive to safe downhill walking.  So it was out with the walking pole just to try to avoid the ‘wet, muddy bottom’ syndrome !  Now if I had had a pair of skis with me……..!

I came out onto the coast at one of the many disused quarries that litter this stretch of Dorset and for a time the sun actually made an appearance.

Rolling waves

The wind was working itself up into a frenzy and the waves were powering their way to the shore, only to come to an abrupt halt on the rocks at the foot of the ledge.  They almost seemed to display their annoyance at being stopped by launching themselves as high as they could into the air.

Angry waves

Conditions for photography were dire because the spray coming up from the rocks below was enormous - in fact it may as well have been raining!  Cameras and salt sea spray do not make a good mix so the only way to get pictures was to hold the camera landward of my body to protect it, and then very quickly bring it up, grab the picture and then tuck it away again.  There was no time to properly compose the shots.

Very soon, the sun disappeared as the clouds continued to build ominously.  Normally this would be disappointing but in fact it was perfect because it really brought out the ferocity of the stormy weather and the real ‘personality’ of this rugged coast.  It is a very changeable area, seemingly incongruently tame and innocent in the sunshine but taking on a whole new sinister character as the storm rolled in.

The storm clouds roll in

Along this part of the coast, there are many old quarry caves so I decided to take refuge in one of those and to see if I could at least find some way of getting out of the constant spray so that I could try to get some better pictures.  I was carrying my tripod so I set this up in the entrance to one of the caves and stood between it and the sea so that I could protect it from the spray.  I was then able to get some long exposure shots in an attempt to convey the true power of the sea.

On the quarry ledge

The quarry cave entrance

Stormy seas

My intention was to climb from here up over St Aldhelm’s Head so I repacked my rucksack and left the safe confines of the cave and walked out again into the teeth of the storm.  The route initially took me along the rocky ledge but all too soon I had to leave that solid ground and venture onto the very muddy footpath that climbs steadily upwards towards the top of the headland some 350 feet above the sea.  Any of my local readers will know that this mud is SLIPPERY and CLINGY so that your feet become heavier and heavier as you walk.  With the combination of the ever steepening path, the slippery mud, the sea spray, and the howling gale that was gusting powerfully off the sea, this was one challenging walk………and it was GREAT !!  The expression ‘blow the cobwebs away’ comes to mind.  It was only later that I learned just how strong the wind was!

There was one particular incident that was funny…….and you will need to use your imagination here.  As I was slip sliding up the hill, my hat blew off over a barbed wire fence and started bowling its way at a rate of knots across the field.  Now this was a hat that was bought for me by my daughter so I was rather attached to it (although thinking about it, maybe it would have been better if I had been literally attached to it ! ) and I wasn’t about to let it go.  So I climbed the barbed wire fence, tearing my waterproofs in the process, and complete with heavy backpack ran after it – hopefully you can picture the scene .  I managed to catch up with it eventually and stowed it safely away before climbing back over the fence onto the coast path to continue my upward journey.

The St Aldhelm’s Quarry ledge

I must have made a strange sight as it was impossible to walk in a straight line as I was buffeted and slipped all over the place.  In addition, to try to stay upright, I had to lean into the wind which then made a fool of me by momentarily dropping so that I nearly fell over.  It was a miracle that I kept my feet but to anyone looking on it must have looked like I was a drunken man!  At times, it was even difficult to move at all!  Eventually the path levelled out as I reached the quarry ledge just below the top of the headland.

This ledge has a lot of history with the remains of a once thriving quarrying industry, and also the remains of a Second World War Radar Research Post but I think that will need a separate blog entry to detail.

The chimney

The remains include what I call ‘The Chimney’, a stack of stones left by the quarrymen when the work ceased – oh how I wish the picture could convey to you the strength of the wind gusting across that ledge.  Sadly, this is where a picture fails.  One of the quirky things about St Aldhelm’s Head is the effect on the sea and the many white horses that are seen here.  These are apparently caused by the fact that there is a ledge some 30 feet below the surface that stretches several miles out to sea.  It makes these waters quite dangerous and because of that, there is a National Coastwatch Lookout Post on the headland.

White horses and storm clouds

From the quarry ledge, it is only a short hop up to the top of the headland……..but I think I gave the National Coastwatch Volunteers a bit of a shock when I climbed up the cliff beside their lookout post, they hadn’t expected to see anyone on a day like this!  I went into the lookout post for a few minutes to chat to the ‘Coastguards’ and the calmness and peace inside was tangible…..and a welcome respite!  Being wet and muddy, I dared not venture too far in though!  The volunteers had just been carrying out a reading of the wind speed and they told me that it was a Force 9 gale – OK, so a slight breeze , no wonder my hair was blowing about!!  The light was fading so I couldn’t stay long before I headed out into the wind again to take a last look west along the coast.

Inclement weather and fading light

As I turned away from the coast to start my walk inland, I passed the row of old coastguard cottages that stand proud on the headland.  These once housed the officer and men with their families but are now in private ownership, mostly as holiday accommodation – and what a great place to stay!  With the heavy storm clouds above, I couldn’t resist taking one more picture.  It was an interesting experiment in how to hold a camera steady in the failing light with a Force 9 gale blowing!!  I could have used the tripod but that wouldn’t have stood a chance – well just ‘wouldn’t have stood’!!  As it was, I just crouched as low as possible and anchored myself as best I could.

The old coastguard cottages at St Aldhelm’s Head

And so, finally I made my way along the rough track that would take me back to my starting point.  As I walked, the Coastwatch volunteers passed me by in their 4X4 and stopped to offer me a lift to get me out of the wind – I thanked them but refused.  Well the wind may have been battering me all day and I might have been soaked with all the spray but I was enjoying my ‘walk’ far too much and I didn’t want it to end.

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 is http://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.