The Middle-earth Weekend - A brief history

Chapter One—Small Beginnings

Once upon a time there was no Middle-earth Weekend. Then, about 15 years ago, (hard to believe) a group of interested people got together to discuss Tolkien’s links with Sarehole. This period, though brief, left a vivid impression on the young child which remained throughtout Tolkien’s life.
The Tolkien Society, the River Cole and Chinn Brook Conservation Group and Moseley Bog Conservation Group met together to discuss the possibility of creating a country park to honour J.R.R. Tolkien and his connections with Birmingham, not least his living in Wake Green Road, opposite to Sarehole Mill, an inspiration to much of his work.  The idea came to fruition and The Shire Country Park, now exists and covers the area along the River Cole from the Solihull Border, for several miles in towards the centre of Birmingham and includes the atmospheric Moseley Bog where Tolkien and his brother Hilary played as child.
The early discussions also included proposals for a Tolkien Centre and detailed plans were discussed and eagerly drawn up. During this period there were setbacks. Namely the economic downturn plus the Environment Agency disclosing that the area on which we would have wished to build the Centre, was in fact a flood plain. Discussions about other sites continued but none were as inviting and proposals for funding were not forthcoming.
It was during this period, that the idea of a weekend event to celebrate Tolkien's life and work was suggested. The first one in 2000 was small in scale but very successful. It involved several local groups volunteering information and creative activities including mini dramatic excerpts from Shire Productions (who had previously presented ‘The Hobbit’ at Sarehole in 1989) to an eager public. Another one was proposed for the following year, and then another and .......
The volunteer led event grew from the original few hundred visitors to many thousands, from this country and abroad and the local community provided many of the volunteers that helped the event run smoothly. Some of these have been involved since the start as were my own drama group Shire Productions who provided the dramatic excerpts from Tolkien’s plays. More volunteers were needed as activities grew in scope to include music, guided walks around the area, re-enactment groups, medieval craftsmen and the chance to become the next Legolas with the archers. One marquee became five including a Performance Tent, Information Tent, Craft Tent and Activity Tent and The Shire Tent which promoted The Shire Country Park itself.
So the weekend became a major event, internationally recognized in its own right, rather than a fun weekend promoting the Tolkien Centre which had gradually receded from the forefront of our minds. The organisation of such a major event also grew in scope and demands on time.
Chapter Two—A New Age

In the meantime, Sarehole Mill had been fortunate enough to obtain considerable funding for badly needed and extensive renovations to repair the roof, to stop the leaks from the mill pool entering through the mill walls, to create new sluice gates and milling equipment and repair the bakehouse and bakery preparation room. The most expensive item was the dredging of the mill pool itself.
Sarehole Mill is now in full working order and volunteer millers grind flour on Sundays and Wednesdays, something not possible for any length of time previously because of the lack of water. Behind the mill, numerous old laurel trees were removed and a lovely sloping access path to the first floor of the mill was created. This enabled those with mobility difficulties to see the mill machinery in action. Previously, and indeed currently for those so inclined, (so to speak), access was via a steep narrow ladder. Within the mill itself there is written details of Tolkien’s life and work together with an audio visual display in the beautifully decorated upper floor of the mill featuring a full size hobbit hole front door. For children there is a hobbit hunt within the mill, leading them to explore the mill buildings.
Volunteer gardeners created Sam’s flower garden and The Gaffer’s Vegetable Patch.

Pieces of the land which were rather neglected were encouraged to become an ivy border and the barren ground beneath the old Yew Tree has been transformed with foxgloves and ferns. A fernery was created together with a wildflower border alongside the mill pool. Undergrowth was cleared to create a narrow path into a mini woodland. Currently a miniature village of Hobbiton sits on a small plot behind the mill. Created for this year’s weekend it will only last for this season. The gardens are a lovely and surprising oasis within this area and much appreciated by visitors. There is a cafe and toilets which were not there in Tolkien’s day.
Tolkien would be very surprised and gratified, I believe at the transformation of the mill. In the 1960’s he donated some funds towards repairs when the City Council took on responsibility and turned it into a museum. This second renovation is more extensive and of a much higher quality. Although not happy with the urbanisation of the Sarehole surroundings, I think Tolkien would be pleased at how green the area is now despite being just a few miles from the City Centre.
Sarehole Mill is of course important and well known in its own right, a mill having stood on the site for over 500 years and it being one of only two working mills left in Birmingham. It has links with Matthew Boulton who leased the mill in 1755. Knowing Tolkien’s dislike for the growth of industry with its (at that time) numerous chimneys belching forth black smoke we can only be grateful for the narrow escape created when Boulton decided to follow up his ideas for a foundry with a move to Soho nearer to the town (as Birmingham then was) centre. Sarehole Mill might have become the centre of the Industrial Revolution instead of the tranquil spot that it is today! Tolkien’s mother would have looked elsewhere to bring up her young family.
Sarehole Mill has been transformed into the working mill Tolkien would have known when he was being warned off by ‘The White Ogre’. It has become virtually a Tolkien Centre albeit one that does not have the bells and whistles that the original plans would have had. But then, I think Tolkien would perhaps prefer this subtle and beautiful acknowledgement of his links with Sarehole.
Things move on. Other ideas have already started surfacing, including an inviting suggestion for a second breakfast picnic at Sarehole. Plans evolve. Tiny acorns become oak trees which die after producing their own acorns. The modest beginnings of the weekend grew into an extremely popular event. A victim of its own success perhaps. But as with Middle-earth itself, years have passed and those of who have volunteered are not like elves; we have physically aged, and perhaps a new age dawns in which to celebrate Tolkien’s life and the stories that emerged from his time at Sarehole.

Armchair Gardening

I enjoy watching gardening programmes the way other people love watching cookery programmes. I confess I do not watch many of these, but I suspect that some people, like myself, do not actually try out the recipes in much the same way that I don’t carry out many of the tips and ideas relating to the garden.

Having said that I was inspired by the gardens in the Chelsea flower show. This year I was particularly pleased to be fashionably in tune with the cow parsley which is abundant at the bottom of our garden. I am trying expand the wild flower area and the cow parsley is a willing and enthusiastic participant, albeit having turned brown and wilty in the sunshine. Red campion is also doing well.

What joy to see the mass of purple alliums raising their heads above the other perennial plants at this year’s show. ’Look’ I said excitedly to my husband, (who has recently become an enthusiastic watcher of gardening programmes as well). ’Look’, we have those in our garden. We have three actually and it is a wonder to me that they are not where I planted them; in a group of three, together, in a clump. Obviously loners, they have wandered off to lead solitary and thoughtful lives away from each other where the overall effect is rather underwhelming.

Perrennial geraniums have become my favourite plant of all time (also in tune with the people’s choice at the Chelsea Flower Show). How in tune I am becoming. I love these plants because they are bushy, flower for a long time and are easy to maintain and they here lots and lots of different varieties. Wonderful.

I have planted carrots. Monty Don warned about carrot fly. I did take his advice to heart and have planted onions nearby (to disguise the carrot smell) together with a ‘wall’ of fine willow sticks. The fly tend to fly in at a height of 4” we are told. I shall take their word for this not feeling inclined to monitor their aerial displays. Anyway, having taken this advice I do expect good, straight, unmottled carrots. That is to say, good, round, unmottled carrots since they are globular carrots I bought by mistake.

Our garden is not ideal for vegetables, too much high vegetation and shadow but I feel I should make an effort. I do this with laundry, hanging out sheets and shirts to dry in the sunshine because of saving electricity and the lovely smell etc., when I would really like to just bung them in the tumble dryer and let them get on with it.

I have, however, just returned from a visit to my son and his family in the States and whilst there learned about Hugel Culture (or Hugel Kulture as they say online). Not heard of this? No, neither had I. But I investigated and I have now started a Hugel bed.

www.agrowingculture.org/2013/04/hugelkultur-the-composting-raised-beds

It is a great way to use up those piles rotting wood and prunings, not to mention leaves and compost and once created is supposed to be pretty self sufficient. It is necessary to dig a trench, layer at the bottom if you wish cardboard, and/or newspaper, drop in large logs, followed by smaller branches, followed by twigs, add leaves and/or compost, cover and leave.

Sounds like a recipe to me. We shall see.

Living Walls

5th May this year was memorable, for me anyway. On this day I abseiled down the side of The House of Fraser, a department store in Birmingham City Centre. One of many, raising funds for the Lord Mayor of Birmingham charities. I am sure I felt the way countless participants feel who have tackled this particular fund raiser. Moderate enthusiasm 3 months in advance of the day; nothing over the top (to coin a phrase) but quietly confident. Then, totally scared at the top of the wall at the event. It’s the leaning back off the ledge bit, especially when the army personnel person said ‘hold it there, I’ll take your photo’. Mmmmmm.... Of course I felt inordinately pleased with myself at the bottom. (Not so pleased I would do it again though. Having achieved that little challenge, I am moving on—other things to do, places to go, forget about the t-shirt).

It was whilst I was in sliding and flailing mode on the way down that Living Walls came to mind. That is of course so not true! I was thinking more along the lines of staying alive. Not singing, just thinking.

Living walls only came to mind when I was down, with both feet firmly planted on the ground - unlike living walls that are , as the name indicates, planted vertically. Birmingham has sprouted several impressive living walls. There is a lovely one near to New Street Station and very long and impressive stretch near to Snow Hill Station. These walls have become rather fashionable of late and I find them fascinating but the monitoring and watering etc., needs rather extensive, not to say expensive equipment. It has been fun, however, looking online to see alternative ways of creating living walls in the garden should you feel so inclined. Recycled bottles and felt pouches feature quite frequently. Pinterest is always good value for ideas in the garden and I am often inspired and spend many a happy hour mulling over ideas. The mulling and the doing are, of course, quite separate activities and after consideration I am leaving my garden walls to the ivy. It would be a shame to disturb this ideal location for the nesting birds. Ideal that is apart from the predator magpies.

Another inspiration via Pinterest has been an insect hotel and I am planning one for Sarehole Mill Gardens. Constant news items about declining species are disturbing so we will ‘do our bit’ at Sarehole using materials that are there already, just lying around expectantly, waiting to be recycled in a useful but hopefully, artistic way, as per those examples on Pinterest - perhaps!

The gardens around Sarehole Mill have finally sprouted greenery and flowers. Togetherness seems to be the order of the day. Many that should be blossoming at different times, are blooming side by side. The volunteers continue to maintain the perennial butterfly and bee garden. The ivy garden flourishes interspersed with wild garlic which has insinuated itself in the midst. Must watch this; beautiful though the flowers look, the plant can take over. We have totally transformed the area under the Yew Tree from a dry, balding area of total non-lawn into a romantic woodland patch. I am particularly struck with the way the afternoon sunlight filters through the yew tree branches and highlights the ferns and foxgloves. It looks stunning at the moment.

Another achievement of which I am proud is my personal ‘laying of the stepping stones’ which I tackled last week, finishing off the professionally laid landscaping project started earlier in the year. I was not particularly pleased at how stiff I felt the next day. Must remember my age. Well no! Must not remember my age. You are as young as you feel, they say. Stepping stone laying day - feeling 25, day after - 95! Not to worry. Onwards! So much to do. Keep breathing.

We volunteers in the Gardening Club have continued to plant in the fernery, adding woodland wild flowers to the mix. The cow parsley continues to dominate though. The annual wild flower border alongside the mill pool has not responded well so we shall be planting suitable perennials along this stretch shortly, and should the annuals feel put out by these intruders and put on a spurt they can grow through the perennials if they so wish. They will, of course, be welcome whatever they decide to do.

I was overjoyed last week to see that a pair of mallards had a brood of seven ducklings. That was on the Tuesday. By Thursday the youngsters had disappeared, leaving no trace except two rather lonely and disconsolate (I imagine) parents. Alarm bells! A mink had apparently been sighted near the mill. Hope it is a solitary specimen and moves on, and does not see Sarehole as a desirable residence. Such voracious appetities. I know this from past experience having witnessed the devastation to wild life they can cause. A baby duckling is a mere starter in the banquet of life for a mink.

Birmingham has been selected to represent the U.K. in 'Entente Florale' this year, effectively the 'Europe in Bloom' competition. July will see judges descending on the mill as they include it in their tour of the gardens and parks of Birmingham. I do feel that our gardening club should be optimistic that our efforts will draw approval. We have wonderful volunteers turning up in all weathers to maintain this garden oasis in the heart of Birmingham. We are a living wall of workers, albeit horizontal rather than vertical, but nevertheless creating leafy, lush, and lovely gardens, well worth visiting if you are anywhere nearby. Coffee and cake in the cafe anyone?

Sam Gamgee was a gardener.

The Middle-earth Weekend 2013

Sam Gamgee in the book ’The Lord of the Rings’ by J.R.R. Tolkien is a gardener at the start of the story. In the film, Faramir says that "Gardeners must be held in high esteem in The Shire". Well of course they are.

Tolkien was keen on gardening, spending the time between teaching and writing in tending his flowers and vegetables. His interest in the natural world started as child in Sarehole wandering along the River Cole and surroundings with his brother Hilary and learning from his mother the names of plants and trees.

To acknowledge Tolkien’s links with Sarehole, The Tolkien Society, the River Cole and Chinn Brook Conservation Group and Moseley Bog Conservation Group met together in December 2000 to discuss the possibility of creating a country park to honour J.R.R. Tolkien and his connections with Birmingham, not least his living in Wake Green Road, opposite to Sarehole Mill, an inspiration to much of his work.  This idea came to fruition and The Shire Country Park, now exists and covers the area along the River Cole from the Solihull Border, for several miles in towards the centre of Birmingham and includes the atmospheric Moseley Bog where Tolkien and his brother Hilary played as child, Sarehole Mill is at its heart. www.shirecountryparkfriends.org.uk.

It was during early discussions, that the idea of a weekend event to celebrate Tolkien's life and work was suggested. The first one in 2000 was small scale, (one tent, facepainting, craft activities. It was, however, very successful and involved several local groups volunteering entertainment, information and creative activities to an eager public.

Since then the weekend has grown considerably in size, and the number of attractions and visitors, local and national, has increased along with it. The success of the films The Lord of the Rings added to the numbers attending, but even after the three films were over, the public still came along.  Now, of course we have seen the release of the first of Peter Jackson’s films based on ‘The Hobbit with two more to follow.

The original volunteer groups have maintained their support but the event has grown from a few hundred visitors to several thousand at any one time, and includes far more activities for visitors to enjoy including guided walks around the area, re-enactment groups, medieval craftsmen and the chance to become the next Legolas with the archers. If you have read 'The Hobbit' you will understand the significance of the mini barrel race along the River Cole, taking place each afternoon at 3.00pm. Drama, music and poetry are regular features as is the ever popular Tolkien Tent and Craft Tent.

Visitors are encouraged to attend the weekend in costume and perhaps enter the costume competition.  There is a prize each day for adults and one for children.   This free event is suitable for children and families as well as fans of Tolkien's stories, in fact anyone who enjoys a festival with an 'old-fashioned' feel about it.  Booking is necessary in the Information Tent for some of the activities taking place and there may be a charge for some activities within the event, e.g. face painting but most of the activities are free.

After its renovation, Sarehole Mill is in full working order and behind the mill, Sam’s flower garden and The Gaffer’s Vegetable Patch are flourishing,together with the ivy border, and newly landscaped garden between the offices and the mill. This year the volunteer gardeners will be adding to the gardens, enlarging the fernery, and sowing a wildflower border. A miniature village of Hobbiton is being created especially for the weekend. The gardens are a lovely and surprising oasis within this area. The mill will be free to enter and visitors can enjoy the exhibition and audio visual display about Tolkien together with a mini-hobbit hunt within the mill building. The Tolkien Society will also be there as well as local history groups. Perhaps you would like to come along and share the fun or just visit the mill to enjoy the gardens and relax in the cafe or outside in the courtyard should summer decide to bestow its warmth on you.

middleearthweekend.org.uk

The Sarehole Yew

Sarehole Mill has now officially opened for the season after the many renovations that have taken place since October last year.

It was hard work getting the patch of garden between the old stable block and the mill (around the Yew Tree) ready for the opening. Extreme gardeners were we, not to mention expert pratitioners of synchronised digging. This was quickly followed by extraction of plants frozen in their pots. Alas, all this effor was follow by yet another downfall of snow overnight. Happily the tree canopy had protected the area somewhat and the majority of the space revealed all. It looked very fine I thought. Kevin and Wayne from the Mill had, with a huge effort and great difficulty managed to get an old and extremely heavy millstone to the area and we planted around it and around the newly created circular tree seat and stepping stones. The scene looks very welcoming now for visitors as they enter the grounds of the mill from the car park. Currently, after all that snow,the ground is currently remarkably dry.

Some of us were discussing the Yew Tree and its possible age. Readers might, perhaps, be a little interested in the following details I have gleaned from various sources.

"The yew is an unsmooth tree on the outside
Held firm in the earth, roots twisting beneath
Guardian of fire and a joy on the land"

The above quote is taken from an Anglo Saxon Rune poem; one which I am sure Tolkien would have known well. Those of us digging the ground can testify to the roots ‘twisting beneath’.

Yew is one of the trees used to symbolise the mystical Irminsul, the world tree that our ancestors saw as a metaphor for the cosmos. It might appear on its surface to be just a rough tree. But in its upper branches lies the kingdom of Heaven; the realm of God, the Ælfe or Angels. Situated at the top of the tree, this is the highest spiritual level - the place we all like to get to as we make our spiritual journey. In the lower branches of the tree lies the kingdom of Middengeard or middle earth, our own mortal realm where we live now. The three roots of this great tree pass through the earth, down through the primal world of Hel, the place our ancestors saw as the realm of darkness and shadows.

Yew is far slower growing than other forest trees, because it is laying down hard, close-grained wood. This gives great strength to the trunk and branches providing durable wood for carving and turning as well as making bows for archers.

“With age the yew becomes less straight, 'an unsmooth tree . . . roots twisted in the earth' as the Rune Poem says, but it does not lose its strength. Trees know nothing of old age or death: they grow on and on until accident finishes them off. It is growth itself which makes them vulnerable."

Each year a fresh ring is added to the trunk and branches. Each successive ring is larger than the last, while the crown of leaves stays the same, having reached a point beyond which the framework of the tree can support no more. At last most trees will snap under their own weight, or keel over in storms. The yew has other ideas. It can turn disease into an advantage by allowing fungal infections to eat up its heartwood, leaving a hollow tree which, because the twisted wood is so strong, continues to support the heavy crown of leaves. Meanwhile branches loop down under their own weight until they touch the ground, and there they set root. A young branch may even touch down into the leaf mould inside the hollow trunk, and then the tree renews itself from within; or the spread of disease may split the trunk into staves, each bowing out to root itself individually, so that a single tree is transformed into a grove. The last trick of the yew defeats time itself. The tree simply stops growing. There is no increase in girth, no annual ring. Having reached a sufficient size, it remains stable; it may resume growth, or perhaps not.

It is not easy then to discover the age of a yew tree without examining the rings and many authorities until recently gave up speculating. However, a very rough and ready guide I found would be to estimate 1 foot around the girth of the tree to equal 25-30 years. The girth of this particular yew is nearly 5 feet, indicating an age of approximately 140 years old. So we might conjecture that a seedling ‘took’ around 1870.

Yew is found often in churchyards but pre-dates Christianity. In pagan times it was considered sacred. There appears to be no evidence of any particularly sacred remains at Sarehole. Plus, yew is very toxic to animals, particularly horses so I would think that a sapling might well be pulled up. Deliveries of grain would have been by horse and cart and at one point there were pigsties.

Perhaps it was during the periods of metal rolling taking place at the mill that this seed became firmly established, being less of a threat. Perhaps that particular patch of ground lay unused long enough for the tree to establish itself permanently, its seed having been carelessly dropped from a passing bird, allowing the seed to grow steadily and possibly for some years unnoticed; evergreen through all the seasons to stand now looming proudly over the new seat around its waist. Now we may sit and admire the Sarehole Yew at our leisure.

At the Old Mill

This week saw the unplugging of the culvert that lets water flow into the millpool at Sarehole Mill. The pool has been extensively dredged over the autumn and winter, and lots of crack willow removed. The culvert itself needed de-silting and rubbish cleared out by water jet and the channel leading into the millpond deepened. The water flows from the Cole Bath Brook within Moseley Bog and travels underground to reach the millpool culvert.

The atmosphere was tense. A lone duck paddled in a somewhat desultory manner on the small expanse of water already collecting in the pool from rain and underground springs. Could it sense the importance of the moment. It turned out to be a seagull but I hadn’t got my glasses on. Still, this was this was the moment Sarehole Mill had been waiting for. Contact by phone was made between the contractors at each culvert. ‘Ok! Let her go’. Or words to that effect. It took some time.

We waited, watching anxiously the narrow trickle that was already there. Would there be a wall of water, rushing headlong through the narrow tunnel and gushing out into the newly deepened channel. Wee voles riding the wave on twiggy surfboards perhaps. Rats paddling madly to out swim the torrent. Well not exactly!

It takes about 10 minutes for the water to travel the distance between bog and pool and the culvert at Moseley Bog end was being carefully unblocked bit by bit, even as we watched. The water flow increased sedately rather than tumulteously. The stream in the channel widened to touch the sides of the tunnel and then a proper flow appeared. Fantastic after all these months. An historical moment and I was ready to photograph the momentous occasion. But of course my camera phone was dead.

Never mind, others took photos for the record. I went again to see progress next day (with my camera fully charged) and lo and behold there is a proper pool and proper ducks. Most definitely ducks! The pool still had a way to go to reach its natural depth, but Thursday was gardening club day and it looked pretty much full. Very satisfying for all concerned. The millwright opened the sluice gate for a trial run of the millwheel. It all worked a treat. One of the replacements millstones acquired from Allisons Flour by said milllwright, has come home. Inscribed around its edge it reads, ‘made in Moor St, Birmingham’. Nice!

The gardens are being extended around the front and back of the mill and we are working hard to get it into a fit state for the opening of the museum towards the end of March. A few replacement plants have been added to the perrential bee and butterfly garden. The vegetable garden is rather sad having spent the winter nourishing building materials. The fernery also needs tender loving care since a dipping platform has been added. Not to worry, spring will no doubt see all the green and pleasant additions pushing their way forth. A new garden has been started around the large Yew Tree between the entrance and the mill courtyard and a beautiful wooden tree seat installed. An unwanted mill stone has been wheeled into place in front of the tree as well. That sentence makes it sound so simple. Mill stones are, naturally, heavy and it took a great deal of effort to re-site it. Not by me, I hasten to add. You most definitely do not want one landing on your toes. I just watched. It took well over an hour to lift it and move it about 25 metres. It will be there forever!

The site is being cleared of the debris left after the all the work and is beginning to look spick and span, there is a cosy fire in the cafe, fresh art work is going on the walls.

Sarehole Mill is at last coming into its own.

There is music in the rattle
Of the tinkling wheat that falls,
In the hopper, as the miller
Stops to heed the gristman’s calls.
Yes, I love this shaded building,
Love the flowing stream and flowers,
Love to hear the busy clatter
On the lingering summer hours.

From a poem by Violet Lee, 1873.

Shire Country Park Friends

I am feeling quite pleased with myself .  Since New Year I have joined in with two conservation work days and spent a brief time tidying up our own garden.  The garden is not in a bad shape, which is good because I am not in the best shape.  I appear to have stiffened up in the joints.  Mark Twain said, “Age is an issue of mind over matter.  If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”  I don’t seem to have got the hang of that since I do mind very much.  Blow this ‘wisdom comes with age’ malarkey.

Down again at Greet Mill Meadows we were coppicing and dead hedging.  That is, others were coppicing and I was dead hedging.  I would like to point out that there is great skill in this.  It is not just a matter of piling branches into a heap like a giant pile of pick up sticks.  It is important to angle the large branches so that they all lie artistically in the same direction.  Then you can stuff them full with smaller branches and twigs, weave in any conveniently placed brambles and lo and behold it becomes an obstacle and a beautifully hidey hole for all manner of small creatures as well as giving protection to the newly opened up piece of land.  Young trees of a wider variety will be planted within.   

Not that I saw any small creatures. Too much noise puffing and blowing as I dragged half a tree to its final resting place, not to mention the lonely cry of ’timber’ now and then.  I did find a lonely, long abandoned doll, looking much like I felt, limp and a little green around the edges.  I left it there, propped up in a cosy corner.  It might be found.  Still I managed a good few metres of hedge and this of course is why I feel so stiff.  Must learn a more measured approach to all this physical activity.

The contrast along the River Cole with that of Moseley Bog in the snow was marked.  Standing on top of the dam that marks one of the entrances to the Bog it looked very beautiful and so quiet.   Nothing moved except the occasional passing breath of wind blowing snow like smoke off the leaves and branches.  Of course underneath the snow, nestling within the roots and crouching beneath leaves, there would have been a considerable amount of gentle snuffling and twitching and tiny puffs of breath wafting hither and yon but on top of the dam none of this was noticeable by me.   

The River Cole Valley is still recovering from the floods of course, and looked rather grey and flat around the edges.  Lots of work to do and a good litter pick would not go amiss.  I might do that next time.  Less strenuous.  Possibly wiser!

www.shirecountryparkfriends.org.uk