shards

Visited New Mills two weeks ago and found these treasures by the river near Torr Vale Mill. I think the ceramic shards were brought into the site with building debris to shore up the river bank, they don't make sense in the location.

It reminded me of an allotment I had a decade ago near the Greyhound Stadium in Walthamstow - the earth was full of ceramic and glass. Someone told me the soil had been transported out of bomb damaged central London after the war.

Recently, I read the word 'sherd' for the first time and though it a typo. Sheard comes from 'potsherd', defined as a broken piece of ceramic material, especially one found found on an archaeological site. In general, sherd only refers to pieces or fragments of pottery whereas shard may refer to broken bits of glass, metal, rock, and ceramics. 

sycamore

I walked to this tree on the shortest day of the year last December, and found myself standing by its side on the longest day this June. I'd not planned to do this, but found I'd measured a half turn of the Earth by my pilgrimages on foot to this tree, a sycamore.

finds

Last month I went off for a walk after a succession of rainy days. Top soil had been swept from woodland pathways revealing rich pickings of the domestic pottery shards that delight me. I've found these many times before on a particular path near Scarthin Wood, but on this walk they shone from pathways I'd never gathered from before. I kept them in the collections I'd found them, placing the muddy finds in different sections of my backpack.

I'm drawn to these worthless shards, were they a preferred bowl, favourite cup of a father or son, were they handed down from a mother to a daughter, precious, part of a wedding gift? Was anyone heartbroken when they shattered? Can I sense an echo from who held them? Who raised cup to lips, clattered a spoon scrapping the last morsels of porridge from them? The past in the present, a ceramic trail, reminding me of Hansel and Gretel's attempt at retracing steps, staying safe in the wood.

I'll paint these in their families, recording their cracks, breaks, pattern and decoration in watercolour and pencil. Devoting my full attention while I fix their likeness to paper. 

3rd birthday

My beautiful wee godson will be 3 on the 20th June. THREE. He is a blessing and I'm so glad to know him and his parents. I made him some dragon wings and will be sending these next week along with The Lost Words book. Magic!

eleanor

In May 2019 a dear friend died of ovarian cancer. As the first anniversary approached I saw a call on Facebook to make an offering or gesture by water at 11am on the date of her death. 

I got to the river in good time and gathered a handful of wild garlic, cow parsley and jack by the hedge, twisting and weaving the stems into a circle. Hunkered down in my chosen spot I observed sunlight reflected from the waters surface flickering upon the pale undersides of overhanging leaves and dippers dart from bank to bank, weaving invisible threads of flight. At 11am I placed my offering into the river and watching it float away, felt connected to others making their gestures in still and following waters and seas. A small thing but one that bought Eleanore and her loved ones into my thoughts these past few weeks.         

common & midland

I'm currently reading Walking With Trees by Glennie Kindred and turned first to the chapter on hawthorn, my favourite tree. I learned there are two species native to Britain, the Common and Midland. Venturing to my local park I found beautiful specimens of both and studied their leaves to identify them. The Common variety having deeply lobed leaves, the Midland, shallower lobed.  

Hawthorn leaves were known as 'bread & cheese' to country people and travellers throughout the ages, nibbling on them is said to stave off hunger. When walking I often eat the leaves to take in the magic of these beautiful beings, thanking the trees always.    

 Common Hawthorn - note the deeply lobed leaves

 Midland Hawthorn - branches too high to get a leaf close up 

Midland Hawthorn & Common Hawthorn

significant hedgerow

The first photograph was taken on Christmas Day 2019, the second today. I wonder who is placing these artificial flowers here and why...