Meteors & Lighthouses

My one meteor photograph of the morning... room for improvement!

It's late on a freezing December night in the mid 1990's. A young boy and his dad give up trying to put up their tent at a friends farm in rural Wales. The ground is frozen solid - without a hammer there is no way they are getting those pegs in the ground. The alternative is the car, which seems like a poor option at first. Wrapped up in all his clothes and his sleeping bag the boy reclines in the passenger seat and hopes he will be able to sleep. But soon sleep is the last thing on his mind because the sky is falling!

Little did my dad and I know all those years ago that by pure chance we had picked the peak of the Geminids meteor shower for our winter camping excursion. The frosty temperatures resulted from a perfectly clear night which revealed a stunningly starry sky. As we relaxed - well, settled at least - into our cold but well windowed accommodation we realised that the 'stars' were a whole lot more active than usual. Meteors were falling, by the hundred. Or so it seemed to my little boys imagination nearly a quarter of a century ago (wow, I am getting old!). 

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Not meteors, but the planes still look pretty
cool in photos! 

As a result of that experience as a youngster, the chance to watch a meteor shower will always grab my attention. I even took my girlfriend to watch the Perseids shower as one of our first dates just over 10 years ago... given that she has now been my wife for 9 years that worked out pretty well. 

Knowing that this year the peak of the Perseids meteor shower coincided with a break to visit family in rural Suffolk, where light pollution is less of a concern than urban Stoke (who'd have guessed it?!) we planned to try and watch the shooting stars again, this time sharing them with our children. That was the plan anyway. The night before the peak we sat out in the back garden for a few minutes and caught sight of a handful of meteors before retiring for bed, keeping our fingers crossed that the forecast of clear skies the following night would hold true. 

The next night the alarm was set for 2:15 am. Thank goodness I don't do that too often! I got up to check the skies were clear and then returned to help my wife wake up the children... except they would not be woken! Our 7 year old rolled over, pulled the covers over her head and told us to go away. The 3 year old didn't even stir despite extended shaking and repeatedly calling his name. Oh well, maybe next time.

The first of the dawn light competing with the last of
the stars. 

Laid on camping mats in the garden to take in as much of the sky as possible, we watched the 'show' for a while - the best kind of outdoor theatre. We probably saw a dozen or so in the 20 minutes we watched for, but the light spilling over from surrounding houses marred it a little. Emily very sensibly returned to a warm and comfy bed but I, sucker for punishment that I am, wanted to make a little more of the opportunity. I drove the 10 minutes out to the coast where I hoped there would be less light pollution to watch for a bit longer. It was worth the drive!

I also wanted to try to take some photo's, hoping to catch a shooting star or two. My previous attempts at astrophotography have been amateurish at best, and I didn't think these would be much better, but you've got to start somewhere. I set the camera up and took some test shots then set the camera running taking continuous shots hoping that a meteor would coincide with one of the images. The results were not great, but it was a chance to practice the technique at least. I caught one shooting star, a tiny smudge of a meteor - I think I picked the wrong bit of sky to point the camera at. Never mind, lessons learned. 

While laying on the ground looking up at the sky listening to the camera shutter repeatedly opening and closing, I became aware that the footpath sign just beyond my feet had changed shape. Confused and assuming I had dozed off and that my eyes were playing tricks on me, I stared harder at the sign. It moved. It took me another second or two to realise that the new shape was that of a Barn Owl which must have silently alighted while my gaze was directed elsewhere. It sat for a moment before going on its way with scarcely a sound - I think it heard me shift position for a better view. Having an owl, or any other wild animal for that matter, approach to within 10 feet of you is a pretty good way to start any day. And my day really was only just starting, it still wasn't even 5 am at this point!

I probably saw another 30 or so meteors before dawn started to colour and brighten the eastern sky, fading the stars until only the very brightest were still visible. Given my location on the east coast it would have been rude not to hang around for a bit longer to watch the sun rise out of the North Sea, a sight I don't get to enjoy all too often. I wandered north along the shingle for a few minutes until Orford Ness Lighthouse was more or less in line with where the sun would rise and waited. I figured the lighthouse would be a worthwhile addition to any photo's I may take. While completely alone, I was not without company. Hundreds of sea birds were waking up and flying off. Many of them had clearly roosted in the safety offered by the single spit of Orford Ness. The fisherman were up too - several trawlers chugged past me heading for deeper waters and pushing a wave after wave along the shore as I waited, each peeling off a cloud of gulls as it passed.

With half an hour or more until the sun was due to rise I played about with a few time lapses of the rolling clouds and brightening sky until the sun poked out from behind a large cloud on the distant horizon. It wasn't the most dramatic sunrise I've ever seen, but there is something about being witness to the birth of a new day which never gets old. Heading back towards the car, there was a lot more light to see what I had unwittingly passed earlier. Brown hares and curlews sat in the pastures reclaimed from the surrounding salt marsh. Reed buntings and other small birds sat atop the swaying reeds which lined the ditches. A lone seal, lounging on the shingle, stirred lazily as the day brightened, clearly contemplating the right moment to go in search of breakfast. I had been making a similar decision and was hoping that I'd be back in time to grab not only breakfast, but also 40 winks before the rest of the household woke up too!

Richard

The first peek of the sun rising behind the Orford Ness light house. 

'The Best Books' - Robert McFarlane: The Wild Places

Reading is a luxury I don't get in large quantities these days - work, family, church, part time work (glorified hobbies), photography - they all take their chunk of time. As a kid I used to read loads and when we first got married, before I started University, we both used to read loads together - probably because we couldn't afford to do much else! These days what would have been my typical reading time - the period between going to bed and falling asleep - is often so short that reading the blurb in one go would be a struggle.

Anyway - that slightly off topic waffle goes to explain why it took me nearly two years to finish reading this book, but it was certainly worth persevering!

I'd been aware of Robert Macfarlane as an author for a while but not had an opportunity to read any of his books until a few years ago when I requested a few for a Christmas present (or Birthday... I can't actually remember!). Thereafter I started reading it in fits and spurts as time allowed, which often meant while I was away from home on trips - working in the woods, holidays visiting family and so on - when the normal routines which fill up your day were disrupted enough to free up a bit of time in the day. These are also the times when I am most likely to be able to spare some time for adventure, exploration and time spent out of doors in the peace that the natural world provides, either as a family or occasionally solo. 

And this is the core of the 'The Wild Places' narrative. It is certainly something that resonates with me - an exploration of the last places in the UK which can still be considered as wild, what an adventure! I'm lucky enough to be familiar with a few of the places he visited in the writing of the book. I even read the chapter about coastal wildness - which recounts a visit to Orfordness on the Suffolk coast - the night after a micro-adventure of my own in that area. My in-laws live just a few miles from Shingle Street, the little hamlet where the spit fades away and joins the North Sea. My brother in law had recently acquired a set of inflatable canoes and had been looking for a chance to try them out. Being mid-summer we made the most of the long evening and stole away for a few hours to try the new toys. The sunset canoe expedition which followed is a fond memory which I have written about before and took us up river toward Orford flanked by Orfordness to the East and the salt marsh on our landward side. We stopped briefly on the shingle to enjoy the views before heading back to our start point... a journey made far more difficult by the tide which had turned and was now racing in. We ended up walking back to the car, beaten by the speed of the inbound tide which rendered our inexperienced paddling completely useless as we struggled to not be drawn back inland, let alone making significant forward progress!

Suffolk was among the tamer landscapes and habitats described. Trips to islands, far flung, dune clad coastlines, limestone pavements and the hidden world within there shaded grykes, windswept moorland, barren mountains tops and snow covered bogs with the shadow of ancient woodland are all described in a detail which simultaneously transports you there in person while instilling a burning desire to make a similar pilgrimage to such places yourself . Ever since reading about a night Macfarlane spent on top of Ben Hope near the north coast of Scotland I have been trying to find a reason to justify the 1000 mile round trip to see it for myself. I haven't found a reason yet... but it isn't going anywhere, I'll figure it out someday. 

Of course his trip to the Hope Valley in Derbyshire to look for mountain hares is something I can recreate far more simply - given that my office is in the valley next door! That's not to belittle the experience, I still love to see the white hares bounding away, particularly when there is snow on the ground. So far this year I have been tied up with office work and haven't been up on the hills yet to see them in their winter coats. Luckily there is certainly good opportunity for me to do so in the new year and I'll be sure the make the most of it! It is easy to forgot - working there everyday - that to so many people in the UK coming to the Peak District is a way to escape the daily grind of work, whereas for me, it is work. 

The picture at the top of the page was taken while on a short trip of my own - I was on route to watch a rugby game in Cardiff with my family. Having spent many of my formative childhood years in Wales I made the most of the opportunity by travelling down through Wales revisiting old haunts. In the evening I travelled to the end of the Gower Peninsula on the south coast of Wales to watch the sun go down over Worms Head. It wasn't long after I had acquired my new camera and I attempted to capture the scene with a time lapse... it wasn't the greatest success (you can watch it here if you really want!), but it gave me an hour on a wild coastline to sit in beautiful surroundings and read about Macfarlane making a trip to a comparable coastline a few hundred miles north, only he was approaching from the sea.

I won't go on - discussions of this nature get my mind racing through the long list of places I'd like to visit. And while patience is certainly a virtue it's not one I'm blessed with in abundance. There is a real risk I will lay awake at night dreaming of the Cairngorms, or the Outer Hebrides, or the wild rivers of mid-wales where I swam as a child, or the rugged coastline of Devon where I camped as a teenager... you see what I mean!? Much like 'The Wild Places', my list of dream destinations are largely in the UK. We are blessed with such a diverse island, or series of islands, that international travel isn't necessary if you goal is to visit wild places. If you're struggling for ideas then reading 'The Wild Places' will certainly give you food for thought, in fact it will be a feast! 

Follow Robert Macfarlane on:

Twitter:       @RobGMacfarlane
Instagram:   @robgmacfarlane

Alternatively have a look at all of his books here at his Amazon author profile.

Sunset Paddle

(**I've got a bit of catching up to do on these blog post subjects, this one's from early August**)

We hadn't intended to be paddling at sunset specifically, but we both really wanted to put our new toys to the test. It is my wife's fault really - in the best possible way - she started it at any rate. 

You see Emily brought me a canoe for Fathers day, a budget, inflatable one, but a canoe none the less, and it was, and still is, brilliant. (Proving the rule that 'You don't need to spend a lot of money to have a lot of fun!'). We had christened it with style, at a canoe slalom course not far from home. The children had loved it and I was beyond enthusiastic to be able to add a new dimension to future adventures - I've wanted something like this for a while. 

I'm no expert paddler, but I've played around with canoes / kayaks a few times and my limited skill was sufficient to generate almost limitless fun (in the children's eyes, and mine). Obviously this needed to feature highly in the upcoming summer holiday plans. When visiting my parents in the Fen's of Cambridgeshire it made an extended outing on the river near St Ives. During this trip it carried various members of my family and only capsized once - the accolade for that achievement goes to my Dad - love you Dad! 

Les heading for Europe!

The photo's from this trip leave something to be desired - I didn't have the guts to take my 'proper' camera out on the canoe in case something happened so I just took my phone in a plastic bag. What I need is a proper water-proof rugged camera. If Olympus UK are reading this I will happily accept a TG-5 or a Tracker or both to review on my next watery adventure. Just saying...

We then made the short hop across to the Suffolk coast where Emily's family live. And so, naturally, we put it out to sea, although not very far out. There was a stiff off-shore breeze and as I didn't have my passport with me I didn't fancy a trip across to the Netherlands! We spent an enjoyable hour or two with Megan enjoying her very first attempt at paddling. This wasn't the end of our water-based holiday fun though - at least not mine.

Megan and I come back to terra firma after an enjoyable paddle. 

In the run up to the holiday Emily's brother (Les) had also acquired a couple of inflatable canoes, but not had a chance to try them out before we came down for our visit. We put our heads together at a friends wedding and planned an outing for later that evening to have a micro-adventure of sorts. After various versions of a plan we settled on something a little more realistic than initially suggested (I was a possibly a bit too keen...) and a few hours later we met, threw my canoe in his van and drove the 10 mins to the tiny coastal hamlet of Shingle Street, at the pointy end of Orford Ness. 

We quickly got suited and booted, (more like 'buoyancy-aided and de-booted') and out onto the water. The off-shore breeze of the day before was gone and with it my reluctance to leave the shelter of the shingle bank. So we glided out onto a mill-pond smooth North Sea beneath a stunningly clear, blue evening sky. We paddled out to a buoy marking the safe entrance to the River Alde, which flows parallel to the sea but protected behind the fascinating natural barrier of Orford Ness. We pushed up river for a bit, following a yacht which left us far behind as it smoothly headed for the distant Orford Castle just visible up river. The going was slow but easy, with little if any perceivable current at this point, but the tide was turning.

Exploring the side channel on our way back with an amazing water colour sky. 

It was beautifully warm and calm. We cruised past wading birds foraging on the muddy shore and were over-flown by groups of others on route to an evening roost. This didn't come as much of a surprise of course as we were only a short way, as the Avocet flies, from the RSPB's Havergate Island Reserve. Having both visited the island reserve on an official tour, and been around it on a fishing boat out from Orford I would recommend a visit for anyone who enjoys a peaceful spot of wildlife watching.

Before we tucked behind the shingle spit of Orford Ness we had an uninterrupted ocean view to the east with nothing but a few distant boats to suggest the civilised world extended in that direction. Back to the west, out of sight over the bank stretched acres of salt-marsh, patiently waiting for the next inundation, then the fields, heathland and quiet villages which makes up the Suffolk Coast and Heaths Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB). On an evening like this it certainly lives up to its title! 

The sun was now getting properly low in the sky. Knowing that the tide would start coming in soon, and that we'd be paddling against it, we turned for home after a brief stop on 'the Ness' to re-inflate one of my canoes inflatable cells (it had decided to develop a slow leak). We hadn't gone far back towards our start point when the incoming tide really picked up the pace. I was very quickly reminded just how good canoeing can be as an arm workout! We weren't making much progress but with a stunning sky to watch it wasn't exactly a hardship. We weren't in any danger, apart from the embarrassment of a long walk!

In the hope of an easy escape we explored a side channel briefly, knowing that several of them took us back towards the car park, but quickly ran out of depth. Several Oyster Catchers watched us come, turn and go - having soft mud just beneath the surface of the water certainly wasn't an issue for them! In the end we dragged our canoes out and walked them back to the car along the shingle which gives Shingle Street its name (I assume). The combination of falling light and rising tide beat us fair and square, but what an evening. 

Beautiful weather + beautiful location + beautiful sunset + 

good company + good exercise = Excellent Adventure.  

Next time I think we'll plan to come down the river... with the tide!

Richard

P.S. - As it happens, there has already been a 'next time', albeit on a different river. That's the issue with being tardy at blog writing, that account will have to wait for another day.