It’s about 3 in the morning and I’m awake. The bed is hard. Harder
than I prefer and harder than I’m accustomed to in our various accommodation
choices to date. I can’t get back to sleep. I do some journaling and just after
six I decide I will head out and visit some of the nature reserves. I am on the
road just after 6 am. Morning is misty and as I pass down a hill the vista
before me is of cloud tops with trees poking out here and there. If only I could stop safely to get a
photograph, but there is a reasonable amount of traffic on the roads this early
and I accept that it is simply a case of enjoy the moment wandering the pretty
rural roads in the crisp early morning.
There’s not a car in sight as I pull into Swell wood. As the
feeding stations were topped up late yesterday I’m hoping to find lots of cool
birds coming in for breakfast. Not so. This is a completely different context.
Several of the feeders are empty or are on the ground. Just a couple continue
to swing from their branches in the carpark. The culprits are clear. Squirrels.
Lots and lots of squirrels. There has to
be at least a dozen or more ferreting about on the ground for seed, swinging on
the feeders wrestling the larger nuts through the wire mesh. These aren’t
British squirrels. These are American immigrants and they’ve been outcompeting
the native squirrels. I don’t know whether to be appalled or thrilled at seeing
so many getting a free handout.
The bandits disperse as I reverse into the parking bay best
situated between the two feeders with food remaining. I use the car as a hide which doubles as a
way to keep warm. It doesn’t take too long before a few of the more common
birds take advantage of the clear space while the squirrels sus me out and
decide whether to risk coming back over.
Most squirrels decide that discretion is the better part of valour and
stay away. Three or four must have had less success earlier and are prepared to
brave the intruder, much to the undoubted chagrin of the tits and
chaffinches. I do love squirrels. They
are very cute with their jaunty little tails, and they are active during
daylight. Australia’s cute things are almost entirely nocturnal so you don’t
see them about.
After watching and hoping in the carpark for a while I
decide that it would be sensible to take a walk down to the hide and check out
the herons and egrets. Tick. Tick. I do generally prefer the teeny little bush
birds, but without binoculars in the kit you do need to be grateful that some
birds are impressively large and loud. Not much other action over by the hide.
I can’t devote the whole day to bird watching … or really
today it’s bird squinting..and I do want to visit some of the other
reserves so I reluctantly drag myself away and head over to Greylake once the
obvious regulars in the car park have made an appearance. It’s eyes on the road but some tantalizing
glimpses are had on the way as I relocate.
A woodpecker lands on the trunk of a tree; a smallish tan coloured bird
with a white throat descends onto a small twig. I would have enjoyed a longer
look but clearly it was not to be.
At Greylake again I’m the only person here. Plenty of birds
around though. Goldfinches are easily observed around the car park. I nose
around the voice recordings made by local school children and head over to
assess the long snake-like tunnel which I guess constitutes a playground for
younger kids with bird inclined parents.
I check the map on my brochure and decide to walk out to the
bird hide and see what’s doing.
Thankfully, given that this is a boggy sort of environment a board walk
has been provided. I creep along the
birdwalk.. not quite resembling something out of Spy V Spy. Reed Buntings are cheerily sitting on top of
reed stalks and displaying very prominently.
The kids were talking about reed buntings on the recording. Good to at least be able to see the easy
stuff. On the lookout for something new
I’m entertaining myself trying to get some sort of photo to show mum
later. A warbler sits up bold in the open
for long enough for me to get a snap. It’s better than the one of the reed
bunting I snap in desperation in poor light.
At the hide I fool around opening a window and sitting for a
hopelessly inadequate time. I’m dreaming of spotting a kingfisher. I would
dearly love to see an English kingfisher, but I am a lazy birdwatcher and today
I am also a guilt ridden birdwatcher, seeing as I’ve left hubby to his own
devices. Unable to settle to it I read
over the information about the birds likely to be seen here. I study the illustrations of warblers. Hmm.
Perhaps it was a sedge warbler I photographed?? 
With nothing particularly interesting hanging around on the
water (just coots and a mute swan) I decide I’d better start heading back. Another warbler. This time it’s clearly a
ceti’s warbler, it’s much darker than the other one I saw earlier. Just in time too. It seems the local birding
folk have finished their brekky and arrived with their scopes and
enthusiasm. I nod as we pass. They nod
too. They have been conversing quietly
when trying to see something, but as every birder knows, noise or words are
unwelcome near a bird hide or when you’re approaching another birder.
Time has slipped easily by as I enjoy the reed beds and make
futile attempts to capture an image of the pretty stripey little snails that
sit bauble like on the reed stalks. A pair of anonymous ducks fly over in
silhouette. A coot flaps and argues with
another and then with a beak of nesting material paddles vigorously away. 
The time is moving inexorably on and with increasing guilt
levels I find my way to Ham Wall after stopping briefly at Shapwick heath and
deciding I’d better not. The car park at Ham Wall is completely full. Well. That decides it. Time to go home. All is not lost however. I delay my departure
long enough to ask Tommie to remember the location of this RSPB reserve.
As it’s coming on for 11 am I head home. Breakfast goodies have been left out for me.
Muesli, yoghurt, toast. Above and beyond
the call of duty.
 |
| Jubilee Green, Mark, Somerset |
As we explore the Causeway and the village we come across an
outfit called Popham Saddlery. It was
our Popham forebears that originated in this general area. My mum’s paternal grandfather Jesse Popham was
born and raised in Mark before being recruited to work in the timber industry
in Queensland, migrating in 1870. In due
course he met and married the daughter of Harry Skinner aka Harry the
Housebreaker and went on to have a strapping family, my grandfather being the
youngest of them. I have no expectation
that there is actually a family connection with the saddler Pophams living in
Mark today, but it is satisfying to see that there are still Pophams in the
village.
There’s not a lot to Mark and we continue on to Highbridge very
briefly. It can be hard to tell how old the various buildings are, but today at
least the area we drive through has a very different tone and style to the
smaller villages we’ve been visiting in Somerset so far. We could drive on further to Huntspill, where
Jesse’s father (Joseph Popham, another carpenter) was born, but we’re not
really into it and I’m happy to settle for time in Wedmore where Jesse’s
grandfather George Popham (a thatcher) was born. Wedmore’s the pick of them so far that’s
clear.
We have not really finished what I wanted to do in Mark so
we double back and in the process discover a new section of the Causeway that
we had overlooked earlier. Along this section of the Causeway is a very stinky
farm. We’ve passed a couple of places
over the last day or so where the farmyard stench was appalling. This one in Mark takes the prize though. It
is one stinky, stinky farm. Pity the
poor neighbours. Farms don’t smell so bad in Australia. At least not anywhere I’ve
been. Mind you farming is much less intensive on the whole too and also it’s drier
I suppose… when it’s not flooded. It usually seems to be one or the other at
home!
Hubby is being his usual easy going self and letting me call
the shots. I’m over it. I suggest we drive up to Cheddar Gorge and
tomtom agrees. Along the way we enjoyed
lovely views of the Mendip Hills before negotiating our way though the
congested streets of tourist facilities.
I suggest a stop to tour a cave, but hubby stands resolutely against the
idea.
The gorge leaves me a bit cold on the whole in this bright
sunny weather we’re having today.
Australia does a very good line in spectacular gorges. Poor old Cheddar
Gorge struggles to compete I’m afraid.
Luckily Cheddar Gorge has something up her sleeve. Feral soay sheep, that having been isolated
on some islands somewhere or other were not subjected to selective breeding and
therefore are unchanged from the bronze age.
Coool. These are worth a stop for
a photograph.
Sheep appreciation completed we continue up the gorge and
the scenery improves the higher we go.
Dry stone walls creep along under mossy blankets and the trees embrace
over the road. It would be a pretty
drive in summer. Up on the Mendip Hills
spring is not so far advanced. Trees are still bare. The fields are divided not
by hedges but by dry stone walls.
We turn to make a circuit and head for Wells. Hubby is increasing in assertiveness and unbidden,
parks the car in a signposted cathedral car park. Come on, lets have a look at the
Cathedral. We come to a very large
religious building. It can’t be the
cathedral surely, the grass is mown but it’s a mess. Nope. Signage confirms we need to keep
moving. We resist the urge to stop at
the lolly shop and numerous antiques places. We note the deep gutters flowing with water
completely oblivious to their significance.
“Geez, drivers must hate those” comments hubby. We’re hurrying now because I know there is a
tour of the cathedral at 2pm. We wiz past
the market that is running in the town square.
Wells is a lovely little city. As we are about to find out, it is the
smallest city in the nation.
The great scissor arches and the triforium arches are
another of the special features here. The triforium arches run in a horizontal
band above the pointed arches, leading your eye to the great scissor arches at
the end. This horizontal emphasis is a design element that is particular to
western England. The scissor arches were
not part of the original design. About a hundred years after the cathedral was
built, the foundations began to sink under the tower. The experts were called (master masons) and a
solution was devised. A very beautiful solution. These scissor arches are a
form of bracing and are best observed from the area near the Saxon font. 
Still considering the nave of the cathedral we look at the
two chantries where prayers were said for the benefit of the soul of the
deceased. Later and at different times
you can see the development of the architectural style, the latter construction
being more elaborate. Along the way to understanding the chantries we hear
about some particular personalities and political changes over the centuries.
Around the exterior walls of the nave is a bank of stone for
seating. When cathedrals were built
there were no chairs in them. The congregation stood to hear the sermons,
sometimes for lengthy periods. The
elderly or infirm could sit on these seats around the walls, giving rise to the
saying still in use today that someone has “gone to the wall.”
One particularly entertaining feature at Wells are the stone
capitals. These are carvings at the tops of the pillars and they illustrate
scenes of medieval life. In the course of the work it appears that the skill of
the masons increased. On one pillar the four carvings tell the story of some
grape stealers and their capture and punishment.
The saxon font pre-dates the Cathedral itself and is about
1000 years old. Similarly it has
recently been revealed that the cope chest at Wells also predates the Cathedral
and is singular in that it is so old and still in use, though it contains other
things these days, not copes.
We have seen some beautiful features in quires of various cathedrals.
It is hard to compete with the magnificent set of misericords at Norwich for
example. Here at wells the quire reflects the ongoing life of the church
community. At each stall in the quire a
beautiful tapestry has been placed. These
tapestries were a project that was undertaken during WWII and if memory serves,
something like 100 people worked on the project. They are certainly a striking and colourful
element.
The ceiling above the quire is beautifully decorative. At the moment the glass window which would
normally be a major feature in this area is covered in preparation for
cleaning. Nearby part of a panel is there to see close up. The pollution in the air is pitting the glass
so the project that is being undertaken will lightly clean the glass and then a
layer of protective glass will be installed to protect the historic stained
glass from the elements.
There is some remarkable stained window effects at Wells
also. If they are not maintained, the
stained windows, made up as they are of many hundreds of individual pieces held
together by leading, bow out and eventually collapse. This occurred to some of the windows here and
at some point down the centuries the little pieces of broken glass were
collected and assembled like a crazy kaleidoscope of colour.
Continuing with the recent theme of adding to the treasures
of the cathedral through beautiful textile works for the millennium the
cathedral commissioned a set of works for use across the religious
seasons. Theatre designers were tasked
with the job and they came up with some very striking decorative panels which
are changed at the appropriate time creating spectacular effects. The Christmas set is said to be particularly
impressive. One shouldn’t judge them by
my photographs, they are not only better in person, they are better under
particular lighting set ups which were not operating during our tour. I guess they provide an initial incentive for
people to attend an actual service!
One of the most incredible features of the Cathedral, must
surely be the two story sarcophagus.
There are two representations of the deceased. On the upper level is the usual sort of
thing, but underneath is a sculpture of a thin, wasted, corpse, somewhat
reminiscent of a wraith. It is thought
that the idea was to incite pity on the part of the passer by so that they said
a prayer for the soul of the person. The
chantry and multiple people to pray in it wasn’t enough. The mind boggles what
that bloke had been up to that he was so obsessed with having help out of
purgatory.
Through to the lady chapel, where the kaleidoscope glass is
located we here some more about the windows. One artisan was so thrilled to
actually get paid that he threw in the painting of the ceiling as a thankyou!
We move to the chapter house via an imposing and well worn
stair case. Along the side of the
stairway are seats where tenants or others with business before the powers that
be would sit and wait. Royal palaces have aspects designed to impress and
intimidate. The same was true of the Cathedrals and the administrative areas
attached to them. It must have been very intimidating for the average joe to be
hauled in here to answer to the council.
Inside the chapter house itself we find an extraordinarily
lovely space in very good condition. The guide book claims that it is one of
the most striking and perfectly formed chapter houses in Europe and that’s not at
all hard to believe.
The acoustics are an extraordinary feature. Our guide
explains that if you put a group of chairs in the chapter house for a meeting
when people speak the acoustics of the space create an unintelligible
noise. However if you sit around the
outside you can speak without raising your voice and everyone in the room can
hear you clearly. Witnesses to enquiries
held here were kept in the room seated on the benches around the centre pillar
so that they could not go out and tip off other’s soon to be called. 
Time approaches for the real party piece of this
cathedral. Here at Wells is a very very
impressive very ancient clock. It dates
from the 14th century and is similar in it’s working to a clock at
Salisbury Cathedral but the clock at Wells has a face. The clock is
amazing. Perhaps best to quote from the
guidebook:
First it is a full
twenty four hour clock: the hour hand (a golden sun) moves from twelve noon at
the top through midnight at the bottom back to the twelve noon again. A second
circle tells minute in similar fashion. The third inner dial indicates the number
of days since the last new moon. Close
to the centre a painted disc changes to show the waxing and waning of the moon.
The attention grabbing performance piece though is that
every quarter hour, the knights above the clock gallop around as a figure known
as Jack Blandiver (no one knows why) rings the bells. It is absolutely delightful to see and
incredible that this whole thing is so old.
The follow up to the clock is a prayer, which is said to
take advantage of having everyone in the church here assembled together to see
the clock perform. Pretty clever really.
Hubby heads back to the car to extend our time on the
parking as I admire the front of the Cathedral and the extraordinary collection
of carvings which are such a striking feature.
We’ve left our lunch very late, but we duck into a bakery in
the town square and hubby picks up a chicken pasty and a custard slice. The custard slice is similar to such things
in Aussie but it has a layer of jam which really dominates the flavour. They’re better without the jam. The pasty is pretty good. Just like a pie in
Australia but the pasty shape and handle makes them much easier to eat. I sample hubby’s food and it’s pretty good
and I’m feeling pretty reasonable so we get another one that is pork with apple
and stuffing. The pork one was OK but
the chicken was better. 
Now that hubby’s not hungry any more we head to the Bishops
Palace which has been recommended to us.
The gardens are beautifully kept and make artful use of the ruins of
around the site as well as a series of lovely sculptures.My favourite of the sculptures was “The Pilgrim”, but the Somerset Willow dragon is pretty special too.
Oh.. I guess I should mention that at the
Bishops Palace you also see the springs that are the source of the vast flow of
ancient water that has filtered down through the Mendip Hills… meh. 
As we wander the grounds of the Bishops Palace we can hear
the choir in the Cathedral, preparing for a service and apparently rehearsing.
As we near the end of our wanderings they burst into Zadock the Priest. It was worth being in Wells this afternoon
just for that! Oh how I would love to be in the Cathedral to hear that
performed. One Day.
We decide to skip the interior sections of the palace and
make our way to the car and home. Most
things are closing so we’ve missed our chance for the lolly shop. Never mind.
It’s not as though we don’t eat enough as it is.
We pass by the City Arms which is impressively old and was
once the gaol here. It seems quite a large complex given that it only had one
cell.
We set off just after 5pm and Tomtom is diligently leading
us home when it occurs to me that we will be passing very close to Ham Wall
RSPB Reserve. Hmm. Do it now or do it
tomorrow? How about now? I change tommies instructions and in no time
we’re pulling up in the still busy carpark for the reserve. It is a 400 metre walk to the entrance of the
reserve but it’s not without entertainment as I spot a linnet singing happily
on a branch. It’s a very popular pathway
for people riding bikes and walking dogs through the levels.
As we reach Ham Wall the bitterns are booming consistently
and our effort in coming here is amply rewarded. We stop at the hides for a while and then
take a very slow and fairly short walk around the recycled tyre boardwalk. We don’t see much on the walk, but when we
come back to the hides a grebe is displaying nicely and I am quite pleased to
see a pochard diving and later climbing up onto the pontoon. You know that Australians are quite prone to understatement don’t you.
We wander about in the evening
light until about 7pm then it’s off home.
We’re not the last to leave the car park. Ham Wall has excellent
infrastructure and there’s things for the kids to do too. Even an area that is tailor made for pond
dipping. 
I’m doing OK well-being wise so long as I avoid eating. We
skip dinner given that lunch was taken rather late in the afternoon. It’s nice to just chill out and have an early
night. 
No comments:
Post a Comment