On being political.

I came across a recent interview clip of a well known celebrity being asked their opinion about the catastrophe that is Ukraine and them saying "but I'm not political, I don't do politics". I know it's easy to roll your eyes when public figures like this elect to stay quiet about big issues. What's harder, however, is to own your responsibility as an ordinary citizen — I mean, how much impact can I/you really make, anyway? Here's the answer: a ton. To say you're "not political" is never morally acceptable. To say that you're "not political" in the UK now, when BJ is feeding his inner-Churchill, the Metropolitan Police are knocking at the door of Number 10, Pretty Pathetic is playing hard-ball with immigrants and the Russians are rampaging through Ukraine, is egregious and a cop-out. If now is not the time to be political, when is?

That's not to say that it's always easy to be political. Coming down on one side of an issue can have consequences. You can lose friends, you can be mocked, harassed, threatened. You can feel alone. No, it can be much easier to be apolitical, to shrug off your hesitations about issues that don't affect you — it's easy to keep your head down and shut up. But that doesn't make it right, does it?

Let’s be honest: choosing not to be political is a very privileged position. If you're not affected by the minimum wage, or the tax bill, or the raging threat of deportation; if you can afford the medical attention you and your family need; if you've benefited from a fair wage; if you've got a good pension; if the colour of your skin or your religion don't dictate how people treat you — then you can afford to ignore politics entirely. 

Good for you. You've benefited from the socioeconomic structures that are in place in the UK, and you don't necessarily have to worry about the people that those same structures systematically hold back. Except, you should. And not just because those people could have easily been you, under different circumstances. Because, because…….do I really have to explain to you that you really should care about other people?

Obviously, I don't mean that you have to be protesting against injustices every hour of every day, or that you shouldn't take a break for self-care whenever you need to. Being "political" simply means becoming aware of what's happening in your town, your county, your country, and taking the time to learn what you can do to create change.

Sometimes, this is going to mean a time commitment — when you show up to a protest, sign a petition, or contact your MP, for example. Not doing those things, however, or not being able to do those things, for any reason, does not mean you are not political. There is no checklist; there are no criteria. Either you choose to be aware of the political landscape and be as active as your circumstances will allow, or you choose not to be.

But there is a choice. It's a highly personal one — maybe not even one you ever speak about to another person. Only you can judge what your being "political" means. You can be quietly political, or shout your politics for the rooftops, or engage only in certain issues. But, you do have a choice. You do not have an excuse. What'll it be?

Six walkers, six miles and six tors

What a glorious day for a walk on Dartmoor. Blue skies, not too warm and very few people around. It was certainly one of those days to relish. And relish it we did as we completed our very own Six Tors Challenge.

We started at the infamous Pork Hill car park on the Tavistock to Princeton road = a car park with extensive views towards Plymouth Sound and the added bonus of the near-resident Willy’s ice-cream van. The route was straightforward: up Cox Tor, across to White Tor, via Stephen’s Grave, then Roos Tor and the three Staple Tors - Great, Middle and Little. Just under 6 1/2 miles in glorious weather. Not an easy walk but not overly strenuous: a good moderate grade for this one.

Cross the road from the car park and you are immediately heading up Cox Tor. It must be one of the most easily accessible tors on Dartmoor and can get quite busy’in season’. But not today. We’ve driven passed it so many times but can’t remember the last time we walked up it.

Stonechat on the way up.

Cox Tor is crowned with a trig point (hooray) with the flush bracket number  3449. For those interested (probably only me!}, it’s a tertiary point. Meaning it is one that fills in the gaps between relevant secondary points, which, in turn, fill in the gaps between relevant primary locations. Fascinating stuff to a select band of nerds who I’m proud to admit to being part of. Keen eyes will notice a circular object at the base of the pillar. It was an empty coconut shell. Someone’s packed lunch?

What are these mysterious bumps on the side of White Tor. 'Thufurs' that's what. And they are defined as ‘A special form of cryoturbation is represented by earth hummocks or thufur, they are vegetated oval mounds with heights of 30 to 50 cm. Earth hummocks develop because of local patchy freezing of pore-water in the active layer, yet no pure ice core forms but a small proportion of the soil freezes. This core of frozen ground causes moisture migration towards it, concurrently causing a small scaled displacement of soil material in the same direction. Frost heaving leads to the development of a small mound, and as the freeze/thaw processes re-occur many times, this displacement is amplified.’  So that's clear, then?

Looking towards White Tor over a landscape that has seen many changes. There's evidence of tin streaming, a farm (Wedlake) mentioned in the Doomsday Book, a Bronze Age settlement, Iron Age hut circles and the remains of a Neolithic hill fort. Plus a number of ancient trackways and field boundaries. And we walked through it all.

By the side of a track from Pater Tavy lies a stone marking Stephen’s Grave. It is on a more modern plinth with a simple letter S inscribed on it.  George Stephens was a youth of Peter Tavy who took his own life, about three hundred years ago. because of the unfaithfulness of the girl to whom he was betrothed.  He was buried in the usual barbarous manner for a suicide - outside of the parish boundary. But the legend has it that, at the moment he was being laid to rest, some linen that was hanging out to bleach at Higher Godsworthy was caught up in the air in a freak gust of wind and was never seen again.

Try as I might, and believe me I have tried, I never get a decent photograph of a Skylark, especially one in flight. Today was no exception but I did get a shot of one on the ground with a worm in its mouth.

Dartmoor ponies on White Tor, which is made of a rock called gabbro. Look closely and you’ll see that they are far more angular than the normal granite and don’t show the crystalline quartz inclusions that you get with quartz.

The army firing range flag on White Tor warning us the the Willsworthy Range was  being used. We occasionally  heard the crump of a large gun. Around this boulder can be seen lots of smaller rocks that made up the walls of the hill fort. As well as being part of the construction, some authorities think they could also have been used as handy missiles.

Lunch stop. Right foot pointing to where we came from (Cox Tor) and the left pointing to where we were heading (Roos Tor).

Roos Tor, and many other tors, suffered badly at the hands of the stone cutters. So much so, that in the mid 1800s the Duke of Bedford erected a series of protective markers stones around the tor inside which stone was not to be taken. There were fourteen in number each consisting of a bisected circle which were carved into natural rocks. It has been suggested that the original markers were put in place about 1847 and were then replaced around 1890 with a series of more substantial stones. Each stone being of dressed granite standing about one metre high with  the letter ‘B’ on the side facing away from the summit.

Although Roos Tor might not be considered one of the most ‘craggy’ of Dartmoor tors there are several rock climbs mapped around its outcrop. Here you can find; Laidback Jack, Outright Denial, Kanga, Mucky Groove and even Clenchy Bum Time to name but a few. And if you are interested in the latter, a climbing guide describes it thus: 'The obvious right-left trending layback crack on the short, South-facing wall just below the flagpole. Finish left of the overhanging rock'. 

Taking a relaxed stroll in the sun along the ridge between Roos Tor and Great Staple Tor.

Coming down the other side of Roos Tor, you come across, as you might expect, several of the 'Bedford' markers. You'll also come across this parish boundary stone. It marks the boundary between the Peter Tavy and Whitchurch parishes. There is a W cut into one side and a P cut into the opposite side of the stone.

Taking a rest after reaching Great Staple Tor.

Great Staple Tor is a mass of granite stacks and outcrops, with an impressive variety of shapes and height to the rock formations. As you might expect, it is a popular place to visit (but deserted when we were there) and also to climb. Apparently, it was originally called Great Steeple Tor but some surveyors misread the map they were using and Great Staple Tor it was logged as. It is the highest of the three Staple Tors on this particular ridge.

Middle Staple Tor with the confluence of the Tamar and Tavy in the distance. Look closely and the pillars of the Tamar Road Bridge can be made out.

The last of our six tors - Little Staple Tor. Not particularly impressive from this angle.............

...........and only marginally more from below. No granite stacks and really just a scattering of rocks (clitters). But the view from it is worth scrambling up for.

Hosts of golden daffodils

What better theme for a post than daffodils? It's that time of year when they are everywhere and Cornwall is at its best. A veritable symphony in yellow. Enjoy.

We'll start in our garden. I did start counting how many we've got but gave up when I reached 6.

An excellent showing of our Tete-a-tete's this year.

And then it was off for a circular walk around the Cotehele Estate, with a coffee stop half way around! Our route takes us up the Danescombe Valley which was once an important area for growing daffodils commercially. Those days are long gone but the residual daffodils haven't. The woodland is full of blooms and, because they are mixed varieties, the display lasts for several weeks. And after that? Bluebells!

I'm not very good at identifying daffodil varieties but I know what I like. And I like this trio.

If daffodils can have an expression, I thought this one looked rather sad.

Yet more daffodils in the Danscombe. About 1/2 mile of them.

Another unknown (to me) variety.

Cotehele Tower with the daffodils on the meadow putting on an excellent show.

Amongst the daffodils are some Snake's Head Fritillaries. A rather subtle flower against the rather in-your-face yellow of the daffodil.

Daffodils in the Old Orchard are just about coming into bloom. Plenty of buds to come.

The 'famous' Archway of Daffodils. An idea pinched from the garland?

Same thing, slightly different view.

And it's not just daffodils that are looking good at Cotehele at the moment. What about this fantastic magnolia blooming in the Terrace gardens?

Along the Lynher from St Stephen's in Saltash

The sun was shining and it was even warm for some of the time. Winter is definitely on its way out and Spring is in the air. A great day for a walk and this one took us along the River Lynher, just outside Saltash. We've done it a few times before and it's yet another that does not disappoint. As ever, a few photographs for the record.

And, of course, this walk was done against the depressing backdrop of the tragedy of Russian aggression against Ukraine. We could enjoy something being denied so many. It was never far from our thoughts.

We began and ended outside of St Stephen's church on the outskirts of Saltash. Our route took us down through Forder to Antony Passage, then across to Wivelscombe and Greeps and returning via the side of Trematon Castle. It was just under 6 miles and the elevation profile tells it the way it was - lots of ups and downs so it was not an easy walk. At the top end of the moderate grade.

This companiable fellow seemed to follow us for a while as we walked along what must have been its territory.

Looking down Forder Lake towards the Lynher. ‘Lake’ is a local name for ‘creek’ or ‘inlet’. But on Dartmoor, it means ‘stream’. In the foreground is the viaduct that now carries the railway line down into Cornwall. Some think it’s the original build by Brunel but it’s not. Brunel’s viaduct was further down the creek and was a wooden structure, it didn’t last that long and was replaced by this one in the early 1900s. The track of the line was modified to accommodate this and the bed of the old railway can still be seen in parts. Just passed the viaduct, the embankment in view is that for the pond of the old tidal mill. Recently on the market for £2.5 million!

The ship in the channel of the Lynher is HMS Brecon, decommissioned in the early 2000s, and now a static training ship for naval recruits at nearby HMS Raleigh at Torpoint. It is anchored off Jupiter Point, the site of a D~Day embarkation base for the USA army.

Low tide at the top limit of Wivelscombe Lake. The OS map says that there’s an old quay around here but I’ve never been able to spot it. Must have used a boat with a very shallow draft to get up here at most high tides.

Looking vaguely north-westerly towards the TV mast on the top of Caradon Hill, about 12 miles away. Lots of fields but no animals. Presumably because it's too early to turn them out?

A CH-47 Chinook flying quite low over the trees. It came and went and, shortly after, it came and went in the opposite direction.

A stretch through the deciduous woodland bordering the Wivelscombe Lake. The photograph does not do justice to the vibrant yellow of the primroses and celandines. A very pleasant spot for our lunch stop.

Looking over the Lynher with the spire of St Mary's church in Sheviock in the distance. A church with a spire is rather unusual for Cornwall as most have towers. In the foreground is the new vineyard being planted up by the Shillingham Estate. Chateau Antony anyone?

Looking eastwards and the confluence of the Lynher with the Hamoaze , which flows into Plymouth Sound towards the right. In the distance the cranes of Devonport Dockyard are visible.

Trematon Castle was built soon after the Norman Conquest and was owned since 1270 by the Duchy of Cornwall. It is now in private hands and is only open to the public on special occasions. It has a stone keep raised on an earlier motte. Although in ruins, much of the Norman walls remain standing, so that the original form of the Castle and keep are clear. The keep is oval and has walls 10 feet thick and 30 feet high. The internal diameter is approximately 21 metres. A rectangular gatehouse, built in 1270, has two floors and a portcullis. Both are in good condition.  Within the castle courtyard stands a Georgian house built in about 1808. This has four reception rooms and six main bedrooms, as well as servants' quarters. Part of the original castle wall was demolished to give this house a view into the surrounding countryside. This house is now a very expensive B & B - a minimum of £300 per room per night.

We spotted this sign as we exited the field in question. The bull appeared to be invisible so we might have passed it on our way through.

That's what I call a garden with a view. I can only imagine what previous occupants were witness to on the days leading up to D-Day.

It's a good year for catkins. A welcome early adornment of leafless Hazel trees. I like catkins.

Affixed to a cottage in the vicinity of Trematon Castle. An old family retainer? Is it an old cottage for a butler or a cottage for an old butler?

St Stephen's church in Saltash. There was originally a 13th-century church on the same site which had been consecrated in 1259. The present building dates from the 15th century. For centuries the church existed in splendid rural isolation as it is a couple of miles from the river front where the ferry and fishing took place. Gradually, the town has caught up with the church and it is now surrounded by houses. I've not read any reasonable explanation for why it was built where it was but I suspect it had something to do with its proximity to Trematon Castle.

There are a few military graves in the churchyard but this one caught my eye: Edwin Charles Benney of the Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry. He was 59 when he died and a little investigation reveals that he died at the South Devon Hospital in Plymouth. I don't know what he died of. Given his age, I suspect that he had some sort of support role rather than being a soldier on 'active service'. His will is below and I don't think the recipient of his legacy is his wife.

An interior view of St Stephen’s. Several generations of Mrs P’s Cornish forebears would have stood before that altar, either being married or, in a coffin, being buried.

A stained glass window dating from around 1947. It incorporates remnants of glass recovered from a much older window destroyed during a bombing raid in WW2.