Looking Forward - 2015

With 2014 now having been consigned to memories, Facebook, Twitter and blog pages, I am looking forward to 2015 with equal measures of excitement and fear.

Why?

Well, I have had a plan in mind for a couple of years now, and a whole long series of events and circumstances have finally aligned in eclipse-like fashion, and January 2015 is the time to take off the UV specs and see the aura of this solar-eclipse moment in its' true light.

In simple terms, I'm going for it!!

Many of you have been scratching your heads thinking and asking - what?
Well, regular blog readers and media followers know that I am fortunate to be able to split my life between two beautiful parts of two countries - East Anglia, UK and West Cork, Ireland. You will also know, that as a freelance photographer, work in the form of commissions and assignments can be rather up and down, so it is always in mind as to how to supplement and secure a steady living. What many of you may not know, is that I have also been tied to a particular work commitment for 19 years, albeit just a Friday for the past 16 of those. However, circumstances will change from this weekend, maybe temporarily, maybe permanently, I have yet to see but what I can see is that I won't get another opportunity like the one that is facing me now. Six months leave to try a new venture but with the security that there will still be the original work opportunity waiting for me at the end of it - should I want it.

The venture? I will keep you in suspense no longer. On Friday night (the forecast high winds permitting :-/ ) I will be sailing into Dublin on route to spending the next four months (until mid May) in West Cork, putting my all into my new venture. From our cottage overlooking the Atlantic in the far corner of Ireland, I will once again be running weekend photographic workshops and short breaks, following the successful trial back in the Autumn. As the breaks are residential, I will also be turning my hand to playing hostess, and whilst I have my white pinny starched up, I thought I may as well continue with the hosting by offering B&B during the slots when I'm not passing on my photographic enthusiasm to beginners and improvers.

Sadly, following a few personal issues and set-backs over recent weeks, it has meant that my websites have not gone fully on stream quite yet but do check out initial details of the photography breaks on www.celiabartlettphotography.co.uk

For information about the B&B, please drop by www.theyellow-house.com in a few days time, when details of the rooms for half term, a Valentines weekend package, the St. Patricks weekend and the Easter dates will be available for booking (or message ahead with your interest.)

And what of himself and mutt? Well, if it wasn't in part for himselfs encouragement I wouldn't be giving this venture a try, with the view to rolling out shorter blocks of workshops and/or B&B breaks on into (dare I say) 2016. This will mean I will only abandon him for short bursts of domestic duties then, rather than the long spell I will subject him to this time. Yes, of course I will miss him but not as much as I will miss my little walking companion!!! Mutt will be staying here in the East to keep himself company. As I sadly realised yesterday during my regular walk with mutt, it will be the summer before I see the familiar skeletal landmark tree again (in the picture above) but those four months will fly by and I am looking forward to charting the progress of spring again, this time in West Cork.

All Too Much

It was all too much!
Not for me - I was enjoying every sun-drenched-Saturday-morning-moment of it.
No, sadly it was too much for my trusty photographer's assistant. Approaching thirteen years old now, she has noticeably slowed down, and particularly so since October when she started to tell us when she had had enough, rather than us calling time on the walks.
It is sad, as having such a wonderful companion for both indoors and particularly outdoors, has provided opportunities to explore our locality in depth and to develop a love and appreciation of the nature and wildlife in special places.

No more so than this particular corner of North Essex, where the gentle undulations of this cosy countryside meet the flat fens of Cambridgeshire. From this part of the Icknield Way, it is possible to see as far as Ely on a clear day.
Despite the sunshine on Saturday, the light was only good enough to pick out features in Cambridge and thereabouts, with the dishes of the Mullard Observatory highlighted in the distant landscape.

Many hours have I sat on the edges of the fields, surrounded by deer-filled woodland, and many times have I blogged and more recently, tweeted about the seasonal changes which I observe here. For me the place and the natural progress of the year are always magical.
As I sat quietly on Saturday, I listened to a whole range of bird song - blue tits, great tits, long-tailed tits - I even thought I heard the 'little bit of bread' of the yellow hammer but the 'no cheese' seemed to be absent. Woodpeckers drummed and crows cawed - this wonderful symphony of birdsong broken only by the unwelcome roar of the big metal birds moving in and out of the nearby busy airport.
These roaring interludes though, were the perfect time to look more closely around me, spotting the first tiny flashes of glorious blue beaming up from the speedwell.

Despite the sunshine, it was still very much a 'wellie-walk' with mutt up to her usual bubble-patting in the puddles, the swirling patterns of disturbed silt highlighted in her wake.

Upon reaching the old farm bath houses (and boy, could mutt have done with the use of one by this stage!), the sun had reached its apex. The carpet of ageing snowdrops still adding a glorious intensity to the light around the derelict buildings. Rare of late, the shafts of sunlight reached in through the broken windows, the frames casting crisp dark shadows on the walls.

On the window sill, the relics of a once useful facility had morphed into a snail-like reminder of the change of pace in this wooded corner of the farm yard.

Who knows what tales the peeling walls could tell if only they could speak?

And as for my favourite resident farm yard ladies, well, a hello had to be made to them too before we set off on the return leg of this gentle three-hour stroll in the sunny countryside, arriving back home just in time for our lunch.

Mutt took to her bed as soon as we arrived home, and slept for hours. Not unusual, except when she did emerge from her sunny sleeping place, it was clear that her front right leg was giving her trouble again. I say again, as a similar action was made after a long walk during our visit to the Cotswolds a couple of weeks back. On that occasion though, she was up and bouncy by the next morning. Sadly, we are now into day three of hop-along-mutt and clearly recovery is going to take much longer now that she is mature in years - and at nearly 90 years old in our terms, it is hardly surprising!

I would like my assistant to be able to come along with me for a good while yet as we have shared many happy hours together, exploring the the nooks and crannies of this, very definitely not TOWIE corner of the county.
For now though it will have to be just a small amble around the block for the fresh air, and it certainly isn't too much for us to give her lots of rest and TLC.


Post script 28.2.14

After a few days of her making no fuss, we eventually got to the reason for mutts lameness...

This thorn had gone straight in, leaving no obvious mark.
Despite checking her pads on several occasions it was only the swelling and weeping that eventually alerted us to the problem.

Fingers crossed now that she is on the mend.

Winter Storm Tides

A couple of years back, I featured some incredible little sea creatures in my blog. They had been washed up by a
storm tide on a West Cork beach, and up until that point I had never before come across goose barnacles (Lepas anatifera).

Roll on to this week, and I'm back in West Cork where there has been quite a succession of storm tides. During one of the lulls between the storms I had taken the opportunity to walk mutt on our little strand, reflecting sadly on the huge amount of washed up plastic debris - the scourge of modern-day flotsam

It was as I passed a cut-off blue container, acting as a temporary pool, that I did a second take.
Light coloured growths like curly bristles coated the outer edges of the tub.

On closer inspection, I noticed it was more than just the bristles. Tiny seed-like shells were clumped together and straight away I realised what they were.

Goose barnacles (Lepas anatifera) but unlike last time when there were masses of mature creatures on a huge piece of driftwood, these were just the beginnings....

...with just the odd one mature and recognisable specimen.


This morning, I was back on the little strand, and again during one of the sunny lulls. The very high tide of the previous night had washed the blue container back out to sea, replacing it with huge heaps of pebbles and seaweed, Once more, there were also items of sea debris lower down the beach, sporting a covering of these pale shell-like clusters.

As we were checking these out, mutt had made her way right up to the high tide line and seemed to be very interested in something. Becoming intrigued, we followed her to the spot to discover the object of her interest.

A young seal, which we identified as a grey seal, had been washed up, dead, onto the pebbles.
But wait, was it dead?
We saw a slight movement around the nose area, at first thinking it was the whiskers being blown in the breeze.

Then we watched as this young pup, dotted with grazes and puncture traumas possibly caused by sharp rocks, made its last few futile gasps at life, gaping its mouth to reveal a wicked set of teeth.
Sadly, there was nothing we could do...

...and with that, it passed into the seal-beyond.


The next storm tide, which is in progress as I write - the wind howling down the chimney rain lashing against the window, will no doubt perform the act of nature recycling.
Life goes on.

Autumnal Signs

Today we have reached the Autumnal equinox and there are some seasonal signs which are obvious. For example, the abundant hedgerow fruit, including these sloes. We harvested some beauties like this a couple of years ago and made sloe gin which has now matured to its best. Wonderful stuff! This year for a change, we made blackberry whisky for the first time and look forward to sampling that in 2014! (Thank you Tearlach for the recipe/ production instructions!)

Other Autumnal signs include damp, misty days, such as it was when I took mutt out for a walk yesterday.

However, there are some signs which aren't quite as obvious, unless you know what you are looking for.
One of my reasons for going for a walk where we did, was to actively go looking for these signs, and I'm pleased to say, I found them.

Tell-tale footpath...

Give-away footprints...

Distinctive p...
well, you don't need any help here!

However, how many of you spotted this sign back in the second image?

It was probably this sign which I was looking for more than the previous three, as this indicates that it is 'all systems go' with this year's fallow deer rut.

These areas of scuffed up ground are made by the fallow deer bucks and are called scrapes. Put simply, the buck urinates on this spot to entice the ladies in and warn the young pretenders away. Already, there is a distinct smell to the several scrapes dotted around the woodland edges, and the testosterone aroma will only get stronger as the season progresses. These scrapes are part of the larger congregating area and are known as rutting stands, several of which I have been seasonally watching for a few years now. These aren't 'easy to observe' parkland deer we are talking about here, where cracking shots are readily forthcoming, these are nervy, secretive, wild deer and so it makes it all the more of a challenge (and you know I like a good challenge!)

The stands always reappear in the same location which makes life easy for me as a photographer. I have a particular spot for my hide area, which today I gave a little bit of an Autumn-clean. Nothing too drastic though as the deer will know I have been there but just enough to ensure I don't have that one blade of grass in line of view.

So, for the next few weeks, this will be my view, off-and-on although through camo netting, and all being well, will finally come into clear focus! Sadly, due to the location, I have no way of getting closer, which I would dearly like to do but I respect the animals and their environment. My solution will be to use a longer lens this year, although I have a bit of a dilemma. Just as the rut is kicking-off here in East Anglia, we are due on our usual break away to West Cork. (The same thing happened last year and I missed a big chunk of the action.) Laying my hands on a long lens is possible but comes at a price. A price which has to be justified if (possibly) the main two weeks of the rut will be whilst I am in West Cork. I will be sad to miss the action again, so I will be sounding out the goings-on over a few mornings during this coming week and will make a decision from that.

On the up-side, I won't be missing out on the wildlife action whilst we are in West Cork. News is that the whale season is hotting up with minke whales and fin whales both being observed off the Cork coast, and although the humpbacks have returned to Irish waters, they are still further up the west coast. Maybe they will have migrated to our waters by the time we get there - we can but hope!

Meanwhile, back to the Fallow deer. My hope is to catch sight of the dominant buck, which two years ago, was a splendid white variant buck. Understandably, the recent increase in numbers of deer meant that a cull had to take place and I got wind of the fact that the local gamekeepers chose to take out all the white deer. I don't have any logical explanation for that but I really hope our white buck might still be the top man - unless he was ousted by his natural successor of course.

I will certainly keep you updated with all the deer action, here on the blog.

And what did mutt think about all this? I have to admit, she is an excellent photographer's assistant (although she has yet to offer to carry my kit bag!) With her lead left on, she knows it isn't play time, so she just settles down quietly and waits for me, although come deer-watch mornings, she will sensibly be left at home, of course.

Sweet Chestnut

It was as a picture from the past.

I happened on this simple covered work area in the corner of the wood, when out exercising mutt the other day. In fact, it was the day of the llama encounter, and I had gone off with my own preferred four-legged walking companion. Looking at the tops of the trees, the tell-tale long creamy-white, bottle-brush-lke flowers told me that this wood consisted almost entirely of sweet chestnuts - a tree I had become familiar with during a working holiday in the area many years ago. This species of tree is prevalent in this corner of 'the garden of England' and comes into flower around this time of year, eventually producing a crop of the winter favourite, the edible sweet chestnut. However, it was another, just as important but less recognised sweet chestnut product that was of interest here.

Armed with just my little G12, I started to take a couple of shots of the set-up, and before I knew it, I was taking shots to tell the whole story. To some, it may be mundane and un-interesting, but to those with a connection to trees, timber or wood products, it probably sets certain senses to alert. To those who think they might find this post boring, I apologise in advance but you never know, you might just find out something you didn't know if you dare to read on!

Sweet Chestnut Castanea sativa is actually a member of the beech family and is not related to the Horse Chestnut.

Here, a lone oak makes a stand.

In this area of Kent /
East Sussex, the trees are grown in coppiced woodlands.

Having grown to the required size, they are cut into sections and cleaned of the bark

Having been stripped...

...and chipped

...they are cleaved and turned into bundles of stakes.

Certainly gives a new meaning to stake and chips!

So, looking familiar yet?

You might just realise that these bundles of stakes are what eventually end up as fencing material. The type of temporary fencing that in the past, was put around disused land. The fences that were strung together by two bands of looped wire. However, today they are often made into trellises, arches or ornate fencing panels. Larger stakes being made into fence posts and in the past, the very large straight sections were also made into hop poles.
(So now the beer connection comes with the stake and chips too!)

The fact that sweet chestnut is used for fencing is purely due to its' properties, as it is well known as being durable and long lasting without the use of preservatives.

However, what fascinated me about this set-up, was that non-industrial artisan production methods were still being used, and whilst time may have mostly left this production method behind in favour of mass production, there was one thing that stayed the same...

...the importance of having the right equipment to do the job!