Muchelney and Thorney

Tags

cattle, heron, martin, Midelney, Muchelney, National Trust, pumping station, River Parrett, swan, Thorney, water management, Westmoor, Yeovil Railway

Muchelney was much in the news in winter 2013/14.   ‘-ney’ or ‘-ey’ at the end of a place-name round here in the Somerset Levels, drained over centuries, means ‘island’. Muchelney became a ‘Great Island’ once more in the terrible floods suffered at that time by some farmers and other residents.

The weather was much better when Zoe and I decided to start our monthly walk from the Priest’s House (National Trust), Muchelney the other day, following the River Parrett for much of the circular walk, and returning via Thorney to the village, which showed signs of considerable refurbishment.  Some houses seemed still unoccupied.

The Priest’s House. We didn’t visit, having neither the time nor our NT membership cards with us.

A bridge disappeared from a railway line disappeared

Dad, Mum and offspring

The feather blew off, to our satisfaction…

…and a second offspring rejoined the family

Our debate and conclusions as to what this was were far too ridiculous to be recorded here.

All along the River Parrett there were signs of water management, overwhelmed during the flooding.

I think was the first walk which Zoe and I have done where every single stile was a kind sub-gate, rather than one needing to be clambered over.

Pumping station

Just a few of the swans gracing a field nearby

Below the three outlets there were fish small…

… and large.  Was the water particularly highly oxygenated?

Not easy to capture the martins after the flies which frequented the same spot.

Older water management device

More evidence of the old Yeovil branch line

Returning to Muchelney…

… we saw there were things to do and see there.

Just a field with some cattle to cross to return to our starting point. We reminded ourselves of another walk when we had hastily beaten a retreat over a five-barred-gate as some young bullocks were taking much too close an interest in us.

Is this too close? We walked on, to hear the thunder of 15 x 4 hooves behind us.  Zoe said you just turn round and stare at them.  I decided to rush at them rather.

It worked, and they turned back and aside, gambolling as much as young cattle can.  But they also thought it was a great game and continued to stalk us.

I continued my method, Zoe hers.

We were pleased to get the other side of a gate,

and I was able to confront the bold leader of the gang, with whom, nevertheless, I felt I had established some kind of relationship.  Is that an evil eye, or what?

The best view we could get of Muchelney Abbey’s ‘ground plan’ without going in.

Our starting point, the church of St Peter and St Paul.

Shapwick Heath

Tags

Avalon Marshes, Burns the Bread, coot, dendrochronology, heron, Natural England, RSPB, Shapwick Heath, Somerset Levels, Somerset Wildlife Trust, swan, Sweet Track

A few days ago, when the weather wasn’t as bitterly cold as it is now, a London friend came to visit me, and among other things we had a lovely walk on Shapwick Heath, part of the Avalon Marshes, also known as the Somerset Levels. The whole area has been restored for wildlife after a century and more of being worked for peat.  Natural England, the RSPB, and the Somerset Wildlife Trust each manages part of the Marshes.  The visitor is rarely aware of who owns and manages what, and the bodies work together as part of the Avalon Marshes Partnership.

Another feature of the place is the existence of the Sweet Track,  built by people living in the area in 3807 BC or 3806 BC.  How so precisely dated?  By the science of dendrochronology, reading the tree rings of this wood beautifully preserved by the acidic bogs.

We walked for about two miles each way along the River Brue, straightened and canalised as part of the draining of the Levels centuries ago.  To our left was the river, to the right marshland.

Coot

We walked as far as, and examined as best we could, a new hide being built,

opposite this view beyond the Brue

before turning back and along a track

to an old one, called Noah’s Hide.  We stayed there for quite a while, enjoying big landscape views and smaller more intimate sights, bordering on voyeurism once or twice.

We were disappointed that no pair was formed from the three Great crested grebes we saw.  Their courtship dance is wonderful to see, as they bow and weave in perfect mirrored harmony on the water.

When it was time to return to the car and home, we congratulated ourselves on the weather which had certainly been better than forecast, and felt that the exercise we had done amply justified eating the Eccles cakes we had bought from Burns the Bread earlier on in the day.