Walking Alone

Walking Alone

I will be honest about this. The result from the EU referendum vote last week has put me into a feeling of despair. It feels like a bereavement. I don't know how to act, I feel I need time to digest the information and space in which to do it.

On the day, I felt numb with grief. I didn't know what to do, so I went to a favourite place in nature that I know well and contemplated my lot. I walked up the Salt Way alone for once. It is normally at this time of year that I lead a ceremonial procession up, along this way, followed by others to celebrate Midsummer with a small fire, sharing blessings, gratitude and hope for the future.

The Salt Way path

But this time I was alone; the path was much narrower than normal as the farmer had just cleared a tiny path through which made me feel smaller than I was, as the barley grew tall, rising up either side of me and creating a cosy, safe little way up to the top of the hill. This was just what I needed, a slow walk, barefoot up the slope, watching the crop sway in the wind, bending this way and back, listening to its swish, noting that as I walked the car noise became less, or at least less noticeable to me as I walked slowly, mindfully up to the top of the ridge and sat down.

Towards the top of the ridge.

This time sitting by myself but in the trace of the ring that we have created up there after all these years. The trace may be just be in my mind as a memory; fragments of memories that I treasure of those past fire ceremonies, but I felt connected to that spot, that place and started to look out to the distant horizons and relax.

Sitting, looking out.

Surrounded by waving grasses and meadow flowers.

As I looked out, over and into nature, my breathing became more conscious. I was sitting amongst tall swaying grasses and shorter meadow flowers with flying insects busy overhead and other insect life scurrying past my feet. Seagulls flew higher, over the undulating landscape, taking a straight path to their destination. My perspective on life and the beings living in it grew bigger.

The bigger picture and a tiny flying insect.

I knew it was time to retrace my steps back home when I no longer felt the fear in my belly but a pure delight and gratitude for being 'right here, right now'.

I still don't know how this 'Brexit' situation can be sorted, there doesn't seem to be any plan, but I know that my plan is to walk daily, to be outside in nature more, to connect with other like-minded persons and enjoy the here and now.

The path will become clear.

All will be well.

For another artists view on the EU referendum, look at the blog of Jackie Morris, her entry 'A rock and a hard place', 28/6/16,  it reads beautifully.

For your information, my next Netwalking event is on the 8th of July 2016.

 Please call or text me on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk

Out for a Walk

Out for a Walk

The best thing about our temperate and changeable climate at the moment is when, at long last, sunshine bursts through cloud and blue skies appear overhead. We usually have drier weather over here in the South East corner of England than the West and Kent is known for being one of the driest counties, so imagine my dismay when the run up and duration of the half term holidays was cloudy, grey, windy and very cold. This is apt and more expected weather for the dulled skies and morose tone of early February or mid November, but not for the start of June and whilst the West of the UK enjoyed unusually hot temperatures and bright strong sunshine, we shivered and put the heating back on.



The sun setting this week, more to the east off of the Isle of Sheppey.

Sun setting a few weeks ago, over the end of the island.


 

We wrapped up and went for quick walks, mainly at the end of the day when the sunsets still glowed and we hoped for some sunshine the next day, but generally we stayed inside envying our friends who lived or were holidaying in the West country and wondering just how bright and 'outdoorsy' life could be if we lived in another place: South Africa, Australia or even closer, Spain. But then the weather broke and we had sun, all was forgiven and we went out for a walk, on one of the lowest tides of the year, out to meet the sea, across the rippled sand and mud, looking towards the bright sunset reflecting on the water and the wet sand and I couldn't think of a better place to be.

 

The sunset reflecting on the water and rippled sand and mud.

Intertidal Magic

There is something in this transitory place, the intertidal zone on a beach at low tide which feels magical, mysterious and intimate. The tide goes out exposing the sea floor and all its delights, there are amongst other things, shipwrecks, fossils, seaweed, shrimps, tiny fish, stranded sea gooseberries and jellyfish, scuttling crabs and so much life. The seabed is alive, it gurgles and pops, molluscs create bubbles, seagulls take advantage of the harvest now available, strange remnants of sea sponge and other deeper water animals can also sometimes be seen.

Finding delights!



Shipwrecks too...

To imagine that this life on the seabed is just a part, a layer of life, when the tide brings the sea back in is amazing. Where I was walking right there, fish, lobsters, cuttlefish, seals and far more life, than I could ever list or know, would be swimming in the next 12 hours.

Detail of the wood of the boat.

 

The tide comes in from the east, it flows in around the coast from Reculver and Thanet, obviously coming a lot further than this, but the ebb and flow of the tides is such a huge natural phenomenon that we can forget its power and cease to wonder at it. But having learnt to sail off the coast of Herne Bay over the last few years the direction of the tidal flow became apparent; before that I thought that the tide came in and out parallel to the beach as that is what it looks like from the shore.

Looking back to shore.

I was very happy that my youngest son came out with me on this walk, we shared our finds, mine were fossils and pebbles, his were shrimps, crabs, huge strands of Kelp seaweed and the tiniest Cockles I have ever seen.

Subtle colours and patterns in such a magical place.

 

The tiniest Cockle.

At the edge of the tide-line I looked out to sea, watching the windmills, the sunset and pinpointing the WW2 sea-forts. I waited and recognised the noises, the look of the tide and the bird behaviour, called my son and we walked back in together as the tide turned, towards the distant shore, with its bright beach huts and grassy slopes knowing that a long awaited precious sunny day had been appreciated to the full.

For your information, my next Netwalking event is on the 8th of July 2016.

Please call or text me on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk

Inspiring Collections

 

I have already written in this blog, about my love of collecting things as I walk, (see the entry dated 16/09/14.) This Spring I have, unbeknown to myself at the time used this 'habit' to inspire a new working process. The collection has become a way to further connect myself to place through walking, creating art to share with others to allow them to see the spirit of place.

 

Collecting the forms, colours and textures of the local coast.

'Dancing' trees of the Bluebell wood.

I have been walking a lot over the last two weeks, in woods full of Bluebells on the North Kent Downs, and along the very chilly and windy coast where I live in Whitstable. The two environments are a beautiful reminder of the contrast of landscape that we have in Kent, in close proximity of each other.




Big skies over crashing waves.

At this time of year the differences are stark. The beach is made up of pebbles that are seen, at least from a distance, in neutral tones of grey, beige, and white. The woods in contrast are carpeted with bright jewel colours of mainly sapphire, opal and emerald.

A tiny Violet.

When I am walking along the beach, the neutral colours create a wonderful edge to the pounding grey waves crashing on the beach. It has to be noted that April showers in the UK produce amazing rolling layers of clouds in the bright blue skies, (when the rain stops!) and being on the coast, the vistas of both the wide open sea and the dramatic skies can create a sense of immense wonder. It is truly elemental and the sunsets are breath taking.

Solitary stone pebble.

Experiencing an English woodland at this time of year feels very different. Entering the woods, the sense of growth is staggering, sometimes I think I can hear the sap rising in the trees and the beautiful bright green leaf buds unfurling. The birds are singing; all is alive. The woods are full of the season, the energy pushing, coming up from the earth, gently yet urgently springing into life once more and the scent of the Bluebells fills the air.

Sheep grazing on the downs under a big sky.

Photographs can't capture the immensity of the experience of either place, so on each walk in these areas I have actually collected the colours of the season, sticking my small scale collection down, in order of discovery, onto an adhesive strip. I thought that working with the distinct colours of this time of year, in each contrasting environment, I could work through a process that connected me closer to the real experience. As an artist I know that just starting to open up and play with an idea can create valuable observation and insights later on. I trust in this creative process and I am always amazed at what it produces.

Recording a collection on an adhesive strip.

So far I have been inspired to write poetry, create colour charts for future projects, sketch, photograph, paint, print.... and as my knowledge of processes go, that is just the start, it is a path to follow, that will instinctively will take me to the finished work, the destination I could never have planned.

Sunlight on bright green growth.

For your information, my next Netwalking event is on the 20th of May 2016.

 Please call or text me on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk



Rainy staying in days

 

 

Rainy staying in days.

Today it is raining, again. I can hear its constant patter on the roof as I type this blog entry. It rained all night too, I heard the cars swishing wetly past this morning when I woke up. The light is dull and it's grey outside, but there is no wind and the birds are singing their new twinkly Spring songs.

Cloudscape over Adisham Downs.

This weather may mean that I will postpone that long walk I had in mind and do a shorter one instead. Earlier today I reread a newspaper article, published last year, that said that a 25 minutes walk every day could halve the risk of a heart attack and add 7 years to your life. I can walk to the beach and home again in this time if I walk fast, (I've done it in 20 minutes before, down the steps along the prom and back up another set of steps.)

Seascape on Kent coast.

Then when I get home and dry off I shall spread out my OS maps on the floor, along with the geological maps that correspond to the areas I am studying and wallow in their beauty. It can rain all it wants outside as I plan a (hopefully dry) future walk with friends and fellow artists along the Salt Way from Whitstable to Canterbury, and out along the Pilgrims Way to Adisham.

Looking out towards the Essex coast.

My current art project, which is based in Kent is named 'The Spirit of Place'. I am working, in collaboration with artist Alison Lees. This project takes in the two distinct landscapes of the coast here in Whitstable and the Downs, at Adisham, near Canterbury.

 

Collaborating artists, immersed in Nature.

Beachcombing, fieldwalking and wayfinding are certainly part of the project yet there is so much more too. Do come and visit our Facebook page to see some more inspirations, insights, photographs and artwork.

Starting work on a lino cut.

Using carbon paper to transfer the image.

You can see how this lino print evolves on my own artist Facebook page, Rose Clarity.

For your information, my next Netwalking event is on the 18th of March 2016.

 Please call or text me on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk

Connecting People to Place

 

Today I made a decision, I would start writing my blog again. I have realised I don't know quite what it is exactly that I am waiting for. Maybe I have felt that I need more self confidence, an air of authority or at least some professional guidance and support, but really I just need to get on with it!

Walking with others.

 

 

Exploring new paths.

 

I want to be able to do these five interconnecting activities

 

• run creative regular walking workshops to encourage more people to explore their local land and urban 'scapes'
• start writing my book, entitled 'The Salt Way- re-enchanting an ancient trade route'
• continue to celebrate seasons, people and place by holding ritual walks and gatherings throughout the year
• restart and continue my blog 'People-to-Place'
• regularly collaborate with others on my 'Spirit of Place' art projects

Netwalking along the coast.

 

This blog is a promise to myself that I will no longer put off the writing, I will explore, engage and share my findings on the theme of people and place regularly once more.

I will blog at least once a month, combining my own photographs and images with words to reflect my interests and inspirations.

 

Onwards and outwards!

For your information, my next 'Women Walking and Wellbeing workshop is on Monday the 8th of February in Whitstable and my next Netwalking event is on the 18th of March 2016.

 

Please call or text me on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk

Walking to form a community

Getting to know a place.

Today I walked in an area that I am still getting to know. I understand that the act of walking physically links me to the land and as I walk I become far more aware of the place than I ever could if I was to just drive through it in a car.

Beautiful clear autumn day on the Kent Downs.

The paths we followed ran across open fields where skylarks flew up when disturbed and the haunting call of the buzzards circling much higher overhead reached down to us. The views were glorious; I could see 360 degrees around and on a clear day such as today I could pick out landmarks all along the North East Kent coast from Whitstable to Pegwell Bay.

Curvy downs and huge skies.

Standing on the ridge looking North we could see the various wind-farms and watched their huge blades moving around in the distance, we could clearly locate the city of Canterbury and along to the east we pinpointed the solitary block of flats in Margate and a more traditional smock windmill near Sandwich.

Distant views and wind-farms.

For me this orientation on walks is imperative. I like to know where I am and for this reason I enjoy poring over a OS map either before or after a walk to put it into context. I like to trace where I have been or plan to go, look at the surrounding landscape, visualise the contour heights and pathways, landmarks and roads to get an idea of what feel a walk will have.

Going up the hill to gain a better view.

Once on the top orientation is easier.

OSmaps are beautiful products. The model has been copied all over the world and there are many OS fans that have set up websites, written books or regularly post about their use. Even the 'trig points' (that the Royal Engineers constructed to take their measurements from to survey the landscape) have a loyal fan base. Their history has been lovingly recorded and even though they are now decommissioned they stand as markers in their own right in the landscape around the British Isles.

Plough marks.

Walking to form a community.

It was with great interest that we saw another two figures walking in the distance. One had the slow gait of a leisurely dog walker, the other had a backpack on and was walking slightly bent forward and moving at quite a pace towards the other. After a few seconds of wondering who they were and where they were going we were once again attracted by the ghostly cry of the buzzards and looked up to try and spot them. When we remembered the other people in the landscape we looked again but could not see them.

The path ahead and less sky.

As a woman walking alone I would have been slightly anxious to know where they had gone, would they be nearer me now, would I be safe? But walking with others, even with one other woman allays that fear. It may be just a personal view but I like to walk in company as I feel safer and can therefore enjoy the experience without any anxiety. It is also more enjoyable to share the experience of observing, discovering and being outside together.

The expansiveness of land and sky.

I would like to create a walking community that encourages others to experience this basic enjoyment, to find joy in the simple pleasure of being outside throughout the seasons, recognising the changes in nature, ourselves and each other.

Walking as a community

Walking as a community.

This time of year is a great time to scour the woodland floor looking for fungi. It feels like a treasure hunt, even if the aim is not to forage for food it can become obsessive, looking down or across the leaf litter hoping for a glimpse of a hidden gem.

A beautiful 'fairy kingdom'?

The fungi that stand out the best in this environment are one of the most obvious poisonous ones the 'Fly Agaric'. It looks pretty but its bright red colour is a warning. There are many other poisonous fungi that do not warn you with their colouring, often they look quite harmless even very similar to edible varieties, so I would never encourage anyone to forage for fungi unless they knew exactly what, where and when and how to pick.

Poisonous 'Fly Agaric' toadstools.

I think that exploring the woodland floor for glimpses of fungi is similar to beach combing as it involves looking down and tracking along without too many upward glances. This is OK on the beach as the position of the sea and coastline are fixed and therefore navigation is obvious, but looking down for too long in a wood can be disorientating and make a short walk a much further one as you try and relocate the main path. But this delay is often priceless as you discover the feeling of being surrounded by nature. Today I could hear the wind move the higher branches of the trees causing loud heavy raindrops to penetrate the lower canopy, birds sang, twigs broke and yet again my friend and I called to each other to confirm our positions and share our finds.

Looking down, this time at a mobile fungi recognition app.

Fungi foragers are pretty canny at keeping their treasures their own. On an earlier woodland walk we encountered mutual friends who carried a basket and seemed to try and hide their finds as we approached. At this time of year there must be a whole community of walkers who scour the woodland areas across Europe looking for fungi treasures, lost in their common purpose and passion for this most primitive form of natural harvesting.

We came across wood sculptures too in this area.

Netwalking

A couple of weeks ago I led the first Blue Banana business groups netwalking event. It was a bright clear day, this was a welcome surprise after the previous day full of downpours and dark grey skies.

The first 'Blue Banana' netwalking event.

We walked along the slopes overlooking the sea, along the prom by the beach huts, up into the tea gardens, around the castle grounds and back to The Marine Hotel for refreshments.

It was great, very productive and enjoyable, everyone said they are looking forward to the next one on the 20^th of November, all are welcome.

And along the prom....

Netwalking allows the two pleasures of walking and networking to be combined. The act of walking creates a forward motion to the conversations too that can be had.

Walking new paths creates a brilliant sense of curiosity.

Friedrich Nietzsche is quoted as saying that 'All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.'