English Settlement

There is a certain type of day that just seems entirely of its place- when, temperature, light and the  ether combine to produce a day of pure presence. An existential silence- no matter what events happen within it. Some people seem to find that space quite often- but for the rest of us it always seems like a miracle when they come along. An addict once told me his attraction to heroin was rooted in the sense that it made him feel as if God had let go of his neck- which might be the same thing. Animals are probably closer to that space and one in particular seems an emblem of it to me. The owl. The last couple of weeks we have heard a good number- but I have only seen a few- mainly Tawny owls. But I did see one Barn Owl,  or may be I did.  They appear to me to move within an envelope of stillness- like frozen moments hang off their wings.  A true shapeshifter, whenever I see one a minute later I am never sure if I saw it or not- they exist somewhere between a memory and a dream immediately they are gone from sight. A deeply wondrous talent.. anyways- today was one of those days of convergence- a dreamtime of a wood in autumn.  Here are some pics..hope they convey a bit of it..........

This morning I had a final rummage through the fruit patch and along the hedgerow- the crop hasn't been helped by a poor summer and a dry September, so its been a bit thin through the back end. But there are a few stragglers left emergent..and their tardiness and hardiness in the face of the pigeon onslaught makes them all the more special...so it was raspberries and blackberries at mid- morning. Just a mouthful or two- enough to remind me of why the best are always last.

 Late afternoon when the bills had been paid it was time for a wander. The days are drawing in quickly now and the activity in the wood is frenzied. The squirrels are incessant, amassing acorns and chestnuts for the darkness coming. Ethel Pup seems to know every dray across the hundreds of acres here- and spends her time either frozen, listening for the paper shuffle of squirrel on leaf or scanning the thinning canopy for  movement. Doesn't really matter what the wind is doing, she can decipher the undulation of rodent from that of the air with an uncanny accuracy. This tree is a particular obsession- a mid -size beech that seems home to an extended family of her favourite delicacy. Pup is really quite an amazing animal- and far better equipped to live here than any other member of the crew. She has never had any training for hunting but is a total natural- her cells compel her to hunt. She once spent almost an hour on point at a woodcock less than a metre in front of her-  frozen by her DNA. Her Sire reputedly swam across the Swale between Sheppey and Faversham to retrieve a shot goose, and was given up as lost until he was seen on the beach at Seasalter two days later, a greylag at his feet. Probably a tale, but it's a good one. And Pup has squirrels wired- she knows how territorial they are, and she exploits their fear of their own species with ruthless persistence. Squirrels would rather, it seems, chance it with Pup and Big Sid in a ground level sprint between trees than  shelter in  the tree of another squirrel until the canine storm has passed.  Which sort of levels the playing field.

Counting Squirrels

Six Beeches. Pig Heaven.

The Golden Bough

Come on Up to the House....

I was thinking about the Chris Jordan film below- which is such an important piece of work but will probably just be more flotsam in cyberspace in terms of impact- which makes it even sadder.. so I decided to cheer myself up with some new music. Tom Waits had a new album out yesterday which is just terrifically bonkers as ever..and the record got me thinking about why Midway has reached the point it has- I find Mr T's music throws off so many tangents you can go anywhere with it.. but anyways- as usual he has the answer to the question how it happened..

A message from the Gyre

An Ocean Gyre- that has a ring to it doesn't it? A phrase of Melvillian portent if ever there was one. Subtropical Gyres are giant mid-ocean currents caused by heat expansion. Midway Island sits in the middle of the North Pacific - 2000 miles aways from the nearest landmass. Around it swirls a gyre, and in that circles a half century of dumped trash and flotsam- a terrible plastic soup for the Albatross that call Midway home. Chris Jordan is producing a documentary on Midway- and the impact of our throwaway society on a place 2000 miles distant from it. Sobering stuff....

Location Location Location

I was going to attempt to draw a map of where the crew reside when not out gallivanting, but my artists skills are demonstrably hopeless. Fortunately we have a gifted artist who's a virtual woodland resident in every sense. Rob Turner has been working with the Kent Wildlife Trust on the Wildart project in the Blean Woodlands and has also been blogging on his woodland adventures for a couple of years now. Rob has a dog, Cosmo, who accompanies him on his near daily visits up here. Sid and Cosmo don't get on too well- principally because of Cosmo's never to be forgotten ineptly un-homicidal attack on our dear-departed chickens. Cosmo it has to be said, was about as good at killing chickens as he is at facing down the Sidster. No matter. The bad blood still boils. Schnauzers don't forget trespass. Mess with the chicks, YOU MESS WITH DA WHOLE FAMILY.
Rob's blogs are at:  http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/493778/0/2/desc
and http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/654257/0/2/desc
and here is his map- thanks Rob!

Crew Members

In this show, as in all shows, there are stars- or core crew as we like to call them-, dis, as dey say in Port Arcourt, be dem:

Big Sid

He is big, he's black, and his brain is made of fat.  Sid is a Giant Schnauzer. He has presence. He has self- belief. He is, as far as he is concerned, Capo de tutti Capi, especially in Thornden Wood. You want some?

Ethel Pup- aka El Puppage, Dup:

Ethel Pup is a German Pointer of indeterminate lineage- suspected Spaniel input. Pup does two things: she runs, she hunts. That's it. All else is nothing and nothing else is required.
She confesses. She comes clean. Guilty as charged.
She is the Pup.

Boo Boo:

At this stage neither big nor clever. but we have hopes.....

The Pacific Princess:

Mainly she tolerates it- and keeps everything together. No 1 Crew.

Family Values

Sometimes things just click- and there's a shared passion that gets everyone through the rough times that are always lurking in the recesses of every family. And some love is always good.


A Steelhead Family - Official HD video 3.1 from Andrew Hardingham on Vimeo.

Stuff we do in Autumn

Things happen in a wood this time of year- fruit does its stuff- even untamed- we need to get the logs in, the spiders get busy and mist comes up to hide Sid- which is saying something- he takes some hiding. But mainly its a time for bonfires- one of my favourite things..days like these just need smoke.

Daylight


The light bends rose bowed so close
Pressing urgent on
To fields that await the end race
With the truth of stillness
And the joy of a presence so far away
Sends the light delirious in beauty to
Stop there and rest forever breathing deep
And free amongst the forms surrendered

The apples come on..

And then go out....

Everybody's laying down some stores..

And working on warmth