Milton Lodge Gardens

Tags

camass, Glastonbury Tor, Mendip Hills, Milton Lodge Gardens, National Gardens Scheme, ransoms, red kite, triple entry pond, Wells, Wells Cathedral, wild garlic, Wrington

After a pleasant ‘first Friday’ walk with my friend Zoe, starting and finishing in the village of Wrington in North Somerset,

on Sunday I visited Milton Lodge Gardens, just north of England’s smallest city, Wells. It is open to the public three times a week, but this time it was in aid of the National Gardens Scheme.

The weather was lovely, and the outing was popular, so I had to use the overflow car park, from which this was the view, with Glastonbury Tor, whence I had come, a pimple on the horizon.

Right near where I had parked, was this curious depression, explained in a note nearby to be a ‘triple entry pond’, unique to Mendip, and likely to date from the late 1700s. It was constructed to capture naturally draining water from the Mendip Hills, and used to channel water underground to nearly stock fields.

According to Wikipedia, “Milton Lodge was built by Aaron Foster in 1790 and descended in his family until it passed, by marriage, into the ownership of the Tudway family in the mid 19th century. The Tudways had lived nearby at a house, known as The Cedars, which was built in the 1760s by Thomas Paty, and had bought up much of the local land. In 1909 Charles Tudway moved the main family residence to Milton Lodge, with The Cedars being used during World War I as a military hospital and later by Wells Theological College and Wells Cathedral School” [which it still is].

The same source goes on to say that, “The garden was laid out in 1903 by Capt Croker Ives Partridge of the Alfred Parsons garden design company for Charles Tudway. It consists of a series of terraces planted with mixed borders including a collection of roses and climbing plants. The terraces include Yew hedges, ponds and fountains.^[4] The traditional English vegetation is supplemented with Mediterranean plants which are able to flourish due to the microclimate of the site. The upper terrace includes four canons from the Napoleonic Wars are on display.”

Wells Cathedral can just about be made out middle left.

My Candide app suggested that this, of which there were several examples in the Gardens, might be a Flowering maple, (which is not a maple at all but an abutilon), but I’m not quite convinced, while failing to find a better suggestion…

The Gardens go just beyond the big hedge.

As I had walked from the car park, the way was lined with wild garlic, ransoms. I did not take a photo, but need not have worried about there being no further opportunity.

I was tempted up this tiny path to my right, (the terraces being to my left),

and was rewarded with this.

I returned to the main path, went down a few shallow steps, and found a few more ransoms.

Into parkland.

A clearer view of Wells Cathedral

As I said, the Gardens go down to just beyond the big hedge.

At the end of this path was a large area of wildflowers.

My app identified this as Camass, of which I am more confident

On the edge of the wildflower area was this knobbly tree, which I have failed totally to identify,

even given the clue of its leaf shape.

Just by the tree was a bench, one of several in the Gardens. I partook for a minute or two, surveying the lowest terrace

As I stood up, something made my eyes turn skywards, and I was thrilled to see this red kite. It is now some 30+ years since they were reintroduced into the Chiltern Hills. I had seen some in Scotland in 2011 following their reintroduction there, and I knew that they had spread westwards from Oxfordshire into Somerset. But this was the first I had seen here.

I walked through the tea area to explore the middle terrace.

Turning round I spotted a bench hidden on the other side where I thought it would be nice to take a cup of tea.

It’s hidden!

‘Olivia Rose Austin‘

Tea and cake duly bought, I found ‘my’ bench still unoccupied, with this to my left,

this to my right,

and this ahead.

As I returned to my car, it was all too tempting to take an arty photo of the Cathedral, where I shall be singing at a memorial service in a week’s time.

Priddy

Tags

burial barrows, Castle of Comfort, gruffy, lead mining, Mendip Hills, Pen Hill mast, Priddy barrows, Priddy Circles, Priddy Mineries, skylark, Stockhill Wood, Ukraine

The area, within the Mendip Hills Area of Outstanding National Beauty (AONB), is known as Priddy Mineries, for the lead mined from prehistoric times, through the Romans, (believed to have been particularly attracted to the area because of its plumbic riches), and at least to the 18th century. It is also rich in burial barrows. Zoe wanted to show some of them to me during our first-Friday walk a couple of days ago.

We met at the Stockhill Wood car park. Each of us had been listening to Woman’s Hour as we drove up. We shared how we had been moved by the account given by a young Ukrainian woman fleeing to Poland with her six-year-old son. Their apartment had been bombed the very day after they left. The husband had been obliged to say goodbye at the frontier in order to remain in Ukraine to fight. The young boy, on being told of a tradition that when you sleep in a new place for the first time you can make a wish, said that he wished that the war would end, and of Mr Putin that … he would become a nice man.

There is a 1987 67-page thematic account of a 1986-88 archaeological survey of the whole of the AONB. I confess to only having skimmed through it. As far as its barrows are concerned, there are many, many of them, and they are said to be of Bronze age origin, in an area where Neolithic remains have been found. A short Wikipedia account of this particular area’s barrows is here.

Nearby are the Priddy Circles, thought to be the site of henges.

The land is known as ‘gruffy’, a Somerset word related to mining, as ‘Botany Karen‘ explains. It is uneven, from the works, and, the mining abandoned, excellent for wildlife. On a chilly March day, there was little in evidence for us, but we were entertained by several skylarks from time to time. I did not have my camera with me, but I took a few photos with my phone.

We came to our first barrow, left, and there was another immediately behind it.

Over to the right in the distance we could see a row of seven.

To our left, some more.

A fieldful of pregnant sheep.

The plan was to go along this path, but a walker with a dog, coming from the other direction, warned us off the flooded lane.

So we sort of retraced our steps, doing a very, very narrow figure-of-eight. In the distance is Pen Hill TV mast.

At this point we were still some way from our cars, but I failed to take any more photos, probably because I was 100% concentrating on not falling over on the very muddy paths making up much of our route!

We planned to have lunch at the Castle of Comfort public house, very near the Priddy Circles as it happened, but when we got there were told there was not a chance of a table without a booking. That was the first time that had happened in some eight years or so of first Friday walks. We abandoned the idea of lunching together. At least it solved my dilemma as to whether I could allow myself to eat out on two consecutive days, and gave me permission to do so at Hestercombe the following day…

Hawkridge Reservoir

Tags

Brean Down, Bridgwater, Callow Rock quarry, Ebsley, great crested grebe, great spruce bark beetle, green woodpecker, grey heron, Hawkridge Reservoir, Hawkridge Wood, Little egret, Mendip Hills, Ordnance Survey, quantockonline, Quantocks, Scarlet Pimpernel, scaup, sweet chestnut, tufted duck, Wessex Water, yaffle

Fancying a short late morning walk in the Quantock Hills, I googled and found this, thanks to Quantockonline.com

Ideal. Nice length, water, and a picnic spot with a viewpoint. Splendid. Hawkridge Reservoir was built about sixty years ago to provide water to Bridgwater. Technical details here.

50 minutes away from my home according to the satnav. I arrived after 75 minutes – yes, more roadworks. It’s August.

I had some difficulty identifying the car park. I saw a broad entry to what was evidently a car park, but it had no panel saying it was for the public, so I drove on. I found nothing after a couple of hundred metres, so turned back and parked in the one I had seen, where there was just one other car, and this view.

The panel confirmed that this was indeed Hawkridge Reservoir

The instructions said to go to the road and turn west, past a cottage on my left. So what did I do? I confused my east with my west. (My excuse was that, on both Ordnance Survey map and the plan, the car park is shown south of the road when in fact it was north – but I should have been more alert!) That cost me ten minutes. Having corrected my direction I found no cottage to my left, and made my way back to the car park. Faffing about for a while more

increased my loss of time to at least 30 minutes, until I realised that, according to the plan, my starting point should not have been at level of the the reservoir’s dam, but more than halfway along its length. ‘They’ had evidently changed the location of the car park since the plan had been drawn, and my OS map was also pretty old.

No public access to the top of the dam.

Hooray, I now knew where I was, at Point 4 on the plan, not Point 1.

These are either scaup or tufted ducks. They are just minuscule dots on the previous picture, and some fishermen in a boat are not much larger.

The weather forecast having predicted only a 3% chance of rain, I had not taken any rain protection. So it was as well that as I reached the bottom of the slope and this splendid sweet chestnut tree,

and found myself at this stile (check – yes!), when the rain came I was entering this wood.

It was lovely hearing the rain but feeling not a drop of it.

By the time I reached this gate and bridge it had stopped.

Through some private land, now labelled Ebsley Cottage.

Emerging into ‘wilder’ territory once more, I was delighted to see this Scarlet Pimpernel. It is not rare but I had not seen any for a while.

At Point 6 I got a bit cross with the walk description. Quite clearly according to the plan one was to turn left, south-westish. There was a field to the right, but its boundary was on the left, with a wire fence between field and a coniferous wood. But the words said, ‘follow field boundary on the right.’ What was one to do? I turned left and had the boundary on my left. I was TO the right of the fence. The alternative would have been to turn north, up a slope and have another field boundary on my right. And I’d have got lost again.

I now also had the reservoir to my left. Only fishermen (fisherpeople?) have access to the water’s edge, and beyond, on to the water. This is their clubhouse.

I had to turn away to my right for a bit (Point 8), and, as I turned sharp left a minute or so later, was delighted to be able to rest my elbows on a stile to take photos of this yaffle, aka green woodpecker, at a great distance, as it looked for insects in the grass. I took many photos, and couldn’t decide on the best, so here are two.

Someone’s hideaway?

As I encountered these, I couldn’t help but think of my friend Zoe who is always very cautious around cattle. With her words in my ears, I moved well south of them.

A lovely view ahead, spoiled by an ugly deforestation scar.

I turn round – they’re keeping an eye on me.

Above the scar is a flock of sheep.

A look back at the reservoir.

By the hedge there was a couple eating a picnic. Had I been nearer to them I would, with an explanation, have asked permission to take their photo, but an exchange of what the cliché calls ‘a cheery wave’ sufficed as greeting.

Down to the minor road, and to where I was to leave the circumnavigation of the reservoir to go up to the lime kiln, the viewpoint, and the picnic spot, for my late lunch.

Oh! Footpath closed.

And this explains why, and the reason for the ugly scar. The Great Spruce Bark Beetle.

I felt better about the scar now. And was not at a personal level as disappointed as I might have been. I was ready for my lunch, a Great Climb would have been ahead of me, (I have not mentioned hitherto that it was very hot) and I did not have my walking pole with me to help me down the later descent.

I walked on, thinking I should now see the space where the original car park would have been. Instead – yes – I found THE car park, a glorified lay-by, which had I continued another 300 metres I would have found. It had a nice view of the reservoir,

with some swans and a grey heron,

an information board,

and some people, in and out of cars. I walked on,

found the cottage, and the stile at Point 1, and sat on it to eat my picnic, with a lovely view,

and a better view of the swans.

The grey heron had moved to join its cousin, a little egret.

Difficult to get decent pictures at that distance, but there were also great crested grebes,

mallard ducks (?)

and the chance to get a better picture of the egret.

Back at my personal starting point in due course, I thought this quarry, way in the distance and over to my right, must be Callow Rock Quarry, near Cheddar, the entrance to which I have passed many times on the road, but never seen.

This panorama from ‘my’ car park takes in Wales, Brean Down and much of the Mendip Hills, including the above quarry.

It was time to move on to my other visit of the day.