What to see in Northumerland

This is Lindisfarne

Lindisfarne Castle.  Mercifully the best is seen from the outside, because it's like the 'pool of Siloam' to get a  timed ticket round the castle.  It can be argued that Lutyen's reinterpretation of the site greatly improved it.  It was a Tudor fortified stronghold using stolen masonry from the recently dissolved priory.  It now sits as a marooned ocean-going liner, slowly being encased in icy rock.  

 Lindisfarne Fort by Thomas Girtin,1796
Metropolitan Museum, New York.

Girtin's painting is from the seaward side and shows a fire.  I wondered whether this related to the lime kilns that are situated near this spot, but not so.  But the lime kilns were built later, and serviced by a steam train that brought coal for the Northumbrian hinterland.  Lime came from boats traveling up from places such as Staithes.  The site of The kiln on Holy Island was chosen for its rocky  foundation and well protected harbour.  The product could be used on the fields round about to neutralise acid in the peaty soil, but also was well connected with the sea at a time when the seas round Britain were like motorways..  
I can find no reference to whether gaining planning permission to alter the Tudor fort was easily obtained in 1900.  

The Priory.   Perhaps one of the most famous priories in Britain?  Started in 670 AD (approx) by Prior Cuthbert.   Wrecked by King Henry, the Priory also has a number of arches that refuse to fall.  Although most of Holy Island is made of sand, the island also had the bones of the Whin Sill beneath it.  

The Church(es).  St Mary's is an unassuming parish church inline with the Priory, but which came first?  It is interesting that the Priory was not converted into the parish church, as it was in other places.  But the church is older than the Durham inspired abbey church.  Also it's tower lines up nicely with a navigational tower to help guide boats safely into the harbour.  Perhaps it is a church that would never chose to compete with the glories of the now deceased abbey.  It remains humble and steadfast, like it's be-sainted forefathers.  Both the parish church and abbey have walls that splay outwards in an alarming manner.  

(Courtesy of the Financial Times - Their aeroplane)

Buttressed walls

St Cuthbert's Island Behind the church is the small island with the ruins of a hermit's cell.  On the beach we found people collecting 'St Cuthbert's beads'.  These are the fossilised vertebrae of the 'sea lily'. 

Other churches on the Island are St Aiden's RC and St Cuthbert's URC.

The Dunes and Bird hide.  The seals.

If Holy Island is Venice, then the walk to the dunes are the 'deserted backs streets'.  

Marsh Helleborine  
This is a unique species to the island

Can you see a Cinnabar Moth?

Pyramidal Orchid

The Bird Hide

Seal bay on Holy Island

Bamburgh Castle

Alnwick Castle and Gardens

Jo in the Bambouseraie

The Fox Urn. It has a double in Syon Park, the Northumberland's 
home in London.  But this is the better of the two,
placed here to be seen by many more people

Other sites to see are Hulne Park, Howick Hall and Gardens and Barter Books.

Barter Bookshop

The College Valley

Craster and Dunstanburgh Castle

Dunstanburgh from Low Newton Bay

Dunstanburgh Castle

Further a field

Craigside NT

Berwick

Scotland (including The Ladykirk with it's stone ceiling)

Ladykirk

The stone ceiling

30th of July 1966

  

Got a lot to answer for!

 On a recent zoom call, my mother remembered the famous day, when against the odds, the England Football team beat Germany in the World Cup final.  What a day for little old England.  Always unsure of the 'greatness', England found that the concrete twin-towered Wembley Stadium became a blessed space, a place where unadulterated joy could be felt for thousands, emanating out from London, up and across to certain borders, where it abruptly stopped.  It was a moment when all  troubles and disquiet of the heart could legitimately be passed over, and holy spirits imbibed to mark the moment of an euphoric high, followed inevitable by the eventual tumbling down on the other side to a sobering return to reality.  

It was at this point of tumbling down that I was born into the world.

Mother explained how by complete accident, she had been visiting a friend with one of those rare objects, the television set, when the famous goal was scored.  They thought it was all over, but my mother knew instinctively that hers had just begun. 

Sure enough, when on the eve of the 6th of August, my father drove my mother to the maternity ward, they had a premeditation that the infallible security blanket of the NHS was going to let them down.  The double doors were closed shut, and a sign on the door for the hospital Chief executive announced that due to chronic staff shortages, as a consequence of  recent events in the capital, the hospital was temporarily closed.  There was absolutely nothing offered to those presented with the challenges associated with child birth.  

My parents looked at each other, and up to heaven.  The evening was drawing in; the tide of time pulled relentlessly.  My mother felt another contraction.  Then, before them, they saw a light, a star shining brightly.  With nothing else presenting itself, they followed the star.  It seemed to offer hope, and spoke of destiny.  The light led them to a small. rundown garage, open late in the evening.

The kindly mechanic took one look and knew just what was needed.  He washed his hands and pulled out a settee that had once graced the back seat of a Morris sedan.

With great practical skill, I was born into a pool of engine oil. "very similar principle to removing a big end for an engine block" was the story I heard as I grew up, along this the explanation of why I was also christen  'Morris'. 

Song of Songs

 

Henna in Blossom

Young Woman

Kiss me once again with lips that surpass wine,

Your name’s a sweet aroma, a link to the divine.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Better than wine indeed, their joy is made complete,

Young Woman

When all about adore you, but only our eyes meet.

 

Sun burnt unkempt I, yearn to follow you,

Where flocks rest at noon, I sojourn there too.

 

Young Man

Stop doubting and receive that you’re completely loved,

All I have I share with you, our fortunes jointly doved.

 

As pharaoh’s trembling stallion beholds a perfect mare,

I too am mesmerised by tumbling, cascading hair.

 

Young Woman

Sweet bouquets of henna I nestle upon my breast,

Inhale sweet aromas, lay your head and rest.

 

Young Man

As azure drops sparkle are your dazzling eyes,

Young Woman

Soft grass for our bed, cedar beams our skies.

 

A crocus I will be from Sharron’s verdant vale,

Young Man

I choose you as a lily, all else by it doth pale.

 

Young Woman

Under this tree I rest, for your fruit to taste,

One arm ‘neath my neck, other round my waist.

 

Wise women stir passion only when the time is right,

Here my lover approaches, bounding in morning light.

 

‘Let us run’ calls he, ‘winter winds have passed away,

Shoots of the vine appear, hope’s buds here to stay.’

 

Young Man

Come now from hiding, stand tall and boldly speak,

Your shining face I desire, your wondrous presence seek.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Watch for the little foxes! Enter and they’ll ruin the crop,

Young Woman

My lover’s mine and I am his, he bounds hills with a hop.

 

Awake I lay in bed, but my lover didn’t come,

Door to street I searched, in panic began to run.

 

In vain asked all ‘he’d gone without trace?’

Then my lover appeared, we silently embrace.

 

Wise women stir passion only when the time is right,

Women of Jerusalem

What’s this commotion!  A king displays his might?

 

Young Woman

Come and meet my king, crowned for his wedding day,

Young Man

Overawed by your beauty I know not what to say.

 

Mouth, cheek, and slender neck, pair of bouncing fawn…

Through the night I travelled, arriving at break of dawn.

 

You’ve captured my heart, love better that wine,

Enter a scented garden, sup fruit of the vine.

 

Young Woman

Winds blow north and south, fragrance swirls beside,

Young Man

Great treasure, spiritual sister, perfection, my bride.

 

Women of Jerusalem

Lover and beloved see, your joy is made complete!

   

Young Woman

And now to bed alone, my heart remained awake,

At the door a knock? With uncertainty I quake.

 

But I am ashamed, lacking hope to dare,

I go to the door, finding no one is there.

 

Wondered into darkness, into dangerous night,

Terrors attack me, compounding my plight.

 

Wise women seek my lover, tell him I endure.

 

Women of Jerusalem

You so highly esteemed, your lover’s worth this pain?

Young Woman

My lover’s dark and dazzling, no one matches his name.

Women of Jerusalem

Such love to us convinces, agreeing we come to your aide,

Young Woman

But too late I’ve found him, found in a lily-stroon glade.

 

Young Man

So wondrous you are, fine cities can’t compare,

Cheeks aglow, such teeth, flowing, bounding, hair.

 

If sixty, eighty, countless hoards, stood before me now,

I would see but only one, no one else but thou.

 

‘All’ sing your praises, every noble and queen,

Fairer than the moon, than any banner seen.

 

Young Woman

I go to the walnut grove, to glean if spring’s near,

Strong is my desire to find my charioteer.

 

Women of Jerusalem

We know that you will leave us, love must take its chance,

Young Man

All eyes are now upon you, along the line you dance.

This king is transfixed, delight overflows,

Every detail delightful, from Carmel to toes.

 

See the curves of a palm tree, high fruit in a pair,

Wake with wine washed kisses, more to hope than dare.

 

Young Woman

I am my lovers and he is mine,

We inspect the blossom, the fruit of the vine.

 

I can’t help imagining had you been my twin,

Nestled safely together our mother within.

 

Stir up deep passion just as time perfects,

Women of Jerusalem

This love is blessed, streaming light attest.

 

Young Woman

Beneath this tree wake, once born in this place,

Deluges of water cannot love erase.

 

Young Woman’s Brother

Our sister is too young, I’ll wall her in a tower,

She disgraces her family, despoils her flower.

 

Young Woman

Not fair I protest, free me my brother,

This vineyard is mature, and promised to my lover.

 

Young Man

I listen for your voice as we enter the garden,

Young Woman

Let's continue up higher onto the mountain.

FREEDOM

 Freedom is a nebulous concept.  Are you free?  Are you happy?  Would you being willing to live your life over again?

Tim Harford on the Radio 4's 'More or Less' programme, asked the question, "if newspapers were published once a month, what would their headlines say?  If they were published once a year?  Decade? Century?"

Great question.  Harford suggested the headline for the century paper would read, 'life expectancy more than doubles over the last 100 years'. 

Increase in life expectancy across the world

Few people would argue that this is not a statistic to celebrate.  But just as if everyone in the world were equally rich, and we all had helicopters, our lives would actually be hell, so long life comes with its problems.  Long life is one of the great pressures on our planet: homes, food, health. Perhaps it would be better for us all to have shorter but more fruitful and equal lives. 

There is no doubt that Jacinda Ardern, prime minister of New Zealand/Aotearoa is an intelligent effective communicator, but she tapped into the idea that 'no one should needlessly die' in this pandemic.  Again, everyone will agree.  But if we applied this principle to everything, risk of death by pandemic would be low down the list of 'death risks to our populations'.  

The American website 'Odds of Dying' spells it out for Americans.  In the UK, it can be argued that the current death rate from Covid19 has been 1 death per every 521 people.  The vast majority of these people would not have expected to be alive 100 years ago.  Conversely, I know an 82 year old who moved into a care home, only to be told she had Covid after being tested. She had no idea this was so.

To a fearful generation, death is the final sting.

And the real thing

 

The Charwood Hills Watsan Walkers

Beacon Hill 

Buck Hill

Bradgate Park

Preparing for the Watsan Walk for Water

Top of Old John- Bradgate Park

The residents of the park

Buck Hill

Residents at Beacon Hill

16 1/2 miles