The Newt in Somerset, April 2023 – twice

Tags

Arthur Cole, bee skep, cowslip, dog;s mercury, fallow deer, Hadspen House, hoop petticoat daffodil, Roman Villa, Snakes' head fritillary, Sweet Track, The Newt in Somerset, thrush, Turkish tulip, violet

Ten days or so ago, I took my friend Helen for her first visit to The Newt in Somerset. As ever, I took lots of photos, but I have posted on the subject many times before (search on ‘Newt’) so here are just a selected few taken on that occasion, followed by more on yesterday’s visit.

Helen particularly hoped to see deer. We did.

The Roman Villa from the dovecot. Just see those rows of vines, the pattern of which may be explained later in this post, though I didn’t know it at the time.

Violets,

cowslips, and

dog’s mercury, which I learnt on this visit.

The earliest of apple blossom

Another new plant on me, Hoop petticoat daffodils – thank you Candide app. And I have been thrilled to be reminded, on reviewing my Morocco posts just this morning, that we saw white ones in that country!

Does anyone not love snakeshead fritillaries?

Helen walks The Newt’s tribute to the Sweet Track

My most recent visit, yesterday, was very different, a dawn walk. This meant getting up at 5.00 a.m. When I left home, with just a small glass of orange juice inside me, my car told me it was 6.5 degrees C. When I got to the Newt, it said 4 degrees. On the way, I had been driving almost eastwards for most of the time, and had been enjoying pre-dawn skies, with their pink, pale blue, and mauve hues, frustrated that the roads did not permit me to stop and take photos. (Get a dash-cam for the purpose I have since been advised!). By the time I got to the car park, the sun was just over the horizon.

I made my way to the Cyder Bar, and saw a few people there. The coffee-making machinery was covered, but there was a man behind the bar and about four other people assembled. I called out as I approached, with not much hope, ‘Are you selling coffee?’ Arthur, who turned out to be our leader, replied, ‘Not selling it’. But he was preparing cafetieres of said beverage for all his clients, of whom there would be eight, including me. Two were guests at the hotel, Hadspen House.

While we took our coffee I was delighted to see a thrush on the lawn nearby. Difficult to see at this angle, but I think it’s a song thrush

Arthur Cole*, Head of Programmes, turned out to be a man who knew everything about everything, all things vegetation, gardening, geology, history, everything. And incredibly enthusiastic about all those everythings. You couldn’t ask for a better guide. He took us first to the marl pits area. I wish I could remember even a tenth of what he told us during the couple of hours we were with him.

*(I confess to just having found this hour-long programme, but I shall be watching it soonest.)

Bee skeps, not a couple of hundred years old but created in 2018

The original, Turkish, tulips, from which all others have come. They would open more during the day.

I had never noticed these fossils before. They had been on the sea-bed, in tropical seas near the equator, a couple of hundred years previously.

Arthur checks out that we understand why brick was used on the 17th century south-facing Parabola wall. It is because it holds the heat longer than the stone facing on the other side of the wall.

The Newt holds the National Collection of Apples by County.

This label says: Malus domesticus, ‘Beauty of Bath’, SOMERSET. I wonder why he stopped us there…

Privet flowers are one of the most dangerous to those suffering from hay fever. The smaller the flower, the worse the effect apparently.

‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?’ ‘With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.’ And where is one of our major cockle-producing areas? In Morecambe Bay in Lancashire, calling to mind the disaster of 2004.

In the kitchen garden, tulips replace temporarily the brassicas grown until very recently in these beds, while they await their new edible crop.

That lovely low sunlight

From the kitchen garden

Arthur invites us to pick a flower of the plant I know as Water hawthorn, Aponogeton distachyos. Interesting, and not unpleasant taste, but one rather to be acquired.

In another pond, Great crested newts, which as I understand it, delayed the development of the property for a year or so, so protected are they. And thus the name of the attraction. I’d never seen one before – but then I’d never looked for them in these ponds.

The battery in my camera gave out, and I only thought to get my phone out – I rarely use it for photos – a while later. We were led to a parkland area not usually accessible to day visitors. We stood on the grass helipad, erstwhile rounders pitch for staff as they developed the land in the second decade of this century.

Here are the young orchards, destined to provide The Newt with its cider, sorry cyder, and apple juice in years to come, but not yet ready. Arthur told us the rows had been carefully lined up to provide aesthetically pleasing vistas from a distance, which I had certainly noticed when walking to and from the Roman Villa.

The nearest goose was particularly vocal as he menaced us. At least one of its friends is brooding an egg, as can be seen.

Don’t have bright idea, you may be stuck with it. One year someone had an idea in connection with Apple Day to carve the outline of apples in the bank. The founder liked it – and now it must remain.

Back through the kitchen garden, with Hadspen House at the end.

A familiar view of the Parabola from the Garden Café – where our visit ended with a copious and delicious breakfast – but never before seen by me under this early morning light.

It was 10 o’clock when I left, and it was already getting busy, on this the penultimate day of the Easter holidays.

Another very familiar view, of the way back to the car park, but so unfamiliar with the sun full on it from behind me.

The Newt in Somerset is ever being added to. We were informed that there is another exciting development to open in the coming months, which will increase in attractiveness over the years. I can’t wait!

The Newt in Somerset – March 2023

Tags

Adlestrop, Edward Thomas, fallow deer, moss, red deer, Sweet Track, The Newt in Somerset

It was time to go to The Newt again, this time not focussing on the Roman Villa (3’37” video), as I had on my four previous visits, last year. On Sunday morning I walked mainly in the deer park and woodland. I took over 100 photos. Here are too many of them, especially of deer and moss.

I went upwards, away from the central hub, courtyard and parabola.

As I went along the sinuous raised walkway, known as The Viper, I hoped to see some deer. At first I saw nothing, and then a white patch became clearer. Zooming in with my camera, I realised that there were brown and pale fallow deer there.

There were no leaves on the trees yet, other than those of ivy clinging to their trunks, but there was green moss everywhere. When the sun was out (‘sunny spells’ had been forecast for the morning) it was almost dazzling.

My guess is that some creature, not the bird for which it was intended, made the hole of the higher nesting box too big, so the woodstone box has been put there to foil such vandalism.

Back in the autumn the red deer had been herded into a large field, off limits to the public, presumably because it was the rutting season. Today they had not been there as I passed it, and I wondered where they were. As I walked through the wood, I saw these few, also out of reach of the public, and wondered where the rest of the herd was.

Zoomed

Very zoomed

The Viper’s supports always seem to be hanging in the air. In fact they are firmly bolted into the ground.

I had gone off the footpath to get a little nearer to these deer, (though the pictures are heavily zoomed) and as I made my way back to it, I saw that there were many more ahead of me.

They blend in so well to their surroundings.

Counting ears and legs proves that there are 2.5 deer here.

Deer-proof gate with warning to them. I was able to go through it.

Homage to the Sweet Track. You may walk across it but, unlike some children around, I decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

Aeration? (More fun with sound on)

Lunchtime was approaching. I could have bought a small something at the Cyder Barn.

I could have bought a hot waffle with apple caramel sauce.

I had other plans. With a few minutes to spare, I made for the cottage garden.

Through the gap in the wall on the way, I saw that I could have had an ice cream. I was surprised the selling point was open. I was less surprised, given the temperature, that there was no trade.

No entry, but it’s a lovely gate

I had never noticed this plaque on the wall here before. As I was alone, I read it – quietly – out loud, and was moved.

My reservation time approached and I approach the Garden Café via the Parabola, and its hundreds of apple trees awaiting spring.

This was the view from my table as I enjoyed my meal.

‘The World of Stonehenge’

Tags

Avalon Mrshes, British Museum, grave goods, Jacquetta Hawkes, Nebra Sky Disc, Stonehenge, Sweet Track

People (including me) call it ‘The Stonehenge Exhibition’, but the display at the British Museum is not on Stonehenge, but about the world in which it was created. I visited it with my London friend, Mary, last Friday. (My previous post is on the Jubilee-riddled London I encountered then.)

Mary had visited the very comprehensive exhibition twice before, so went ahead to pay more attention to later exhibits. I learned from this and did not spend ages on each item, flitting somewhat. My eye – and particularly my camera – was disproportionately attracted to shiny objects. As ever, this is just a small selection of photos I took.

“This scratched wood found near a camp of tents surrounded by woodland suggests the threatening presence of bears.”

I was thrilled to find this. The Sweet Track, named after the person who found it when ditch cleaning in 1970, is buried on the Avalon Marshes, near to my home. It has been dated by dendrochronology to precisely 3807-3806 BC, and is preserved by the peat bogs. I have seen reproductions and imaginary pictures of it, but never a section of the real thing. I could find no suggestion that this was not part of the original …

This exhibit, using a moving light show, showed both the structure and the finished object (see header picture) of the oxen pulling the cart and cart itself. The original, excavated in Germany, was lifted as a single object to preserve the archaeological evidence.

Grave goods, sculpted in chalk, from a child’s tomb, 5000 years ago, Yorkshire

“400 carved stone balls are known, mainly from eastern Scotland.”

The motifs on this one, from Aberdeenshire, “connect it to distant Irish tombs, pots from feasts around Stonehenge, and designs inscribed on the walls of houses in Orkney”. The balls are all about 7cm/2.5 inches in diameter.

Alpine valley of Valcamonica in Italy, about 4,500 years ago. “These designs reflect new attitudes to gender, economic and agricultural productivity, and conflict.”

Belt plates found on the stomachs of Scandinavian women in their graves, 1400 BC. Denmark.

Cape worn by a woman, perhaps a leader, a priestess of even perhaps considered to be a divinity. Mold Flintshire, 1900-1600 BC

The celebrated Nebra Sky Disc, symbol of the exhibition. An offering, but too valuable in terms of the knowledge it contained, to be buried with any one individual. Saxony-Anhalt, Germany, c 1600 BC.

“Calenders of the Cosmos?” inscribed with symbols, worn as hats, France and Germany, 1600-1200 BC. (There are in fact just two hats here.)

Found in a grave 30 km from Stonehenge, symbol of a sun cult, “the cruciform motif may represent the four arms of light seen at sunrise and sunset.” 2400-2200 BC.

Neckpiece found in a Shannongrove bog, County Limerick, Republic of Ireland. 800-700 BC

“Pilgrims or Pioneers?”

Jet buttons or fasteners, Borders, Scotland, 2200 – 1900 BC

Astonishing preservation of some bear skin

These tiny gold pins, almost invisible to the naked eye, were attached to a dagger pommel, using techniques seen in Brittany and Mycenaean Greece.

Grave good found in Clandon Barrow, Dorset, 80 km southwest of Stonehenge, 1950-1550 BC

“This astonishing cauldron was riveted from sheets of bronze and was repaired numerous times. With a capacity of about 70 litres it could boil enough meat to feed a sizeable gathering of friends or potential foes.” Battersea, London, 800-600 BC

Cast to the sky before it sank into a pool. “This offering was a hard sacrifice perhaps made to confront uncertainties in a period of major environmental and social change.” Shropshire, 800 BC

Sun pendant, gold and lead, Co. Kildare, Republic of Ireland, 1000-800 BC

A final comment at the end of the exhibition, which is on until 17th July 2022:

(This article explains a little more to the background to her remark. “[A 1967] article surveyed the discussion of Stonehenge as an observatory: she believed that it was not, that its significance was ritualistic and religious, and that attempts to see it as a scientific construct were as much a product of the present time as the ideas of other ages about Stonehenge were of theirs.”)

The Newt in Somerset, May 2020, with a friend this time

Tags

bridge, Coronavirus, Covid-19, Haynes international motor museum, Morocco, Museum of Gardening, Social distancing, Sweet Track, The Newt in Somerset

I wasn’t planning to visit The Newt in Somerset again this month, but the meet-up rules had been relaxed, and I was due to pass over my previous camera to my bridge partner, Daphne. It had been she who had told me about The Newt when it opened in 2019, but my one planned visit there in August had been thwarted by bad weather (which led to my London friend Mary and I going to the nearby Haynes International Motor Museum instead).

Daphne and I had not seen each other since 5th March, the last bridge club meeting before my Morocco trip. Greeting each other with a socially distanced hug, we exchanged carrier bags via the boot of my car, and started up the entrance path.

The Newt is now charging again, but Daphne and I were already members, so we were able to bypass the ticket building to get in.

Near the top of the path to the ‘Threshing Barn’, it was sad to see that a magnificent beech tree was being removed. It was diseased on the inside apparently.

There is still a theoretical one-way system, and we were channelled through the barn.

Along withe the charges have been restored the gift shop, and the ability to buy beverages and ice-cream.

We partook of neither, and indeed our intention was to avoid the most frequented parts of the gardens. We turned off left therefore to the Marl Pit and the Marl Pit Copse.

I have just realised. This is built to the same design as the neolithic Sweet Track, dated very precisely by dendrochronology to 3807 BC, and situated perhaps 20 miles away on the Avalon Marshes/Somerset Levels.

On a day that was to become very hot indeed, it was wonderfully fresh, with the sunlight trickling down through the trees. I hadn’t explored this area on my two previous visits.

We continued into the deer park with no real expectation of seeing any deer, but we did just get a glimpse.

We went on to the walkway to Museum of Gardening, itself closed of course. In any case I’m told you must allow at least two hours to do the museum justice. It has a refreshment area to keep you going.

Looking down from the walkway…

… which Daphne is doing.

It sinews around.

From the museum, we walked to the end of the grounds of the Newt, though beyond is still part of the whole estate. I do not recall this dovecot (if that is what it is) beyond the boundary being there in January. It is built in the same style, stone and roofing as the rest of the new build at the Newt.

We ambled back. (Ambling is now allowed as ‘The Rules’ no longer require that you be outdoors only for essential shopping, and exercise.)

Until I saw this photo, taken, obviously, by Daphne, I thought my hair must need cutting.

The Kitchen garden, the almost invisible so-called Bathing Pond (that is apparently what it was used for, but not now), the Long Walk, and Hapsden House, now a luxury hotel.

Returned from the Deer Park, we ventured a little into the more crowded ‘pretty’ areas, but did not plunge in.

This was filled with tulips on my last visit, three weeks previously. I wonder what will be there on my next visit.

We stayed at the top…

… and walked along this people-less path …

… to the Cottage Garden.

Once through the arch I looked back

Finally there was the ‘Woodland Walks and Mound ‘ area, which I had not seen on previous visits.

I almost got my ducks in a row.

We climbed The Mound, of which I forgot to take a photo. It’s basically an upside-down pudding bowl with a gentle spiral path to get to the top.

But the top was a little crowded so we didn’t stay long.

It was time to go – once I had bought my Newt in Somerset cyder (sic) – leaving by the one way system exit, which meant passing the diseased beech on its other side. It had lost a few more branches, which were being removed one by one. No ‘Timber….!!!!’ was to follow i was told when I asked. It might have been worth staying to watch if so!

Daphne and I had had much digital and telephone contact in the twelve weeks since we had seen each other, but there is nothing like actually being with a friend and together doing something you both like. And now restrictions are to be relaxed further as from tomorrow, another bridge friend is immediately taking advantage of that and has invited three of us round to her garden, not of course for bridge – which would not be within guidelines, sensible, or practical – but for a good old chinwag, socially distanced of course. We will even each take our own beverages.

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.