Skip to main content

Caldy Hill

A rugged path leads to the summit of Caldy Hill.

This morning promised a glorious spring day, and so I went for a walk over Caldy Hill.  My two dogs kept me company, of course, as the likelihood of any human member of this household being able to head out for a walk without taking Emily and Ygraine along too is pretty slim.  Not unless you'd want to endure hours of grumpy yapping and sad-eyed sulking, that is. 

The light wasn't too good for photography, really - Wales, on the opposite bank of the River Dee,  was totally obscured by haze - but the golden-yellow gorse is looking too lovely for me not to attempt a few shots.  It's a pity readers of this blog can't share the gorse's perfume...  Think of warm honey, with a dash of sharp lemon and you'll have a reasonable idea of the fragrance hanging on every slight breeze.


 
Most of the trees here are deciduous and it's still too early in the season for leaves, but every branch is covered in buds.  Daffodils grow in scattered patches, and thick clumps of bluebells - though not yet in flower - are everywhere.  Rocks and tree bark are coated in velvety mosses and lichens in subtle shades of green and gold.  Dry leaves from last year make the ground feel springy underfoot, yet everything's so dry.  Usually, at this time of the year, the woods feel damp but even the pond is no more than a smudge of mud.

 
No sign of water in the fairy pond...!

This is the woodland pond which appears in several of my short stories.  It's here that the ordinary-looking hiker speaks to the four greedy schoolboys in Food, and where, in Old World Magic, Tracy meets that same hiker who goes on to reveal his other identity as the last prince of the Caldy fae.  This same character also features in the novel, Fabian

This is also the same woodland pond that Ygraine, given half a chance, will have a swim in.  That's one dog who loves a swim...  Emily, on the other hand, will do no more than paddle.

The view from Caldy Hill, looking over West Kirby and the River Dee

The view from the top of Caldy Hill is always changing, according to the season and how the light changes.  Like I mentioned earlier in this post, the light over the Dee wasn't too good today - and yet the colours and textures, and sense of space of always worth meditating on from the relative comfort of a wooden bench.


 
Share   Subscribe

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Cure for Aging?

"All that we profess to do is but this, - to find out the secrets of the human frame; to know why the parts ossify and the blood stagnates, and to apply continual preventatives to the effort of time.  This is not magic; it is the art of medicine rightly understood.  In our order we hold most noble -, first, that knowledge which elevates the intellect; secondly, that which preserves the body.  But the mere art (extracted from the juices and simples) which recruits the animal vigour and arrests the progress of decay, or that more noble secret which I will only hint to thee at present, by which heat or calorific, as ye call it, being, as Heraclitus wisely taught, the primordial principle of life, can be made its perpectual renovator...." Zanoni, book IV, chapter II, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, first published in 1842. Oroboros keyring - Spooky Cute Designs The idea of being able to achieve an immortal life is probably as old as human life itself.  Folklore and mythology ab

Remembering Richie Tattoo Artist's Studio

Richard in the street entrance to his tattoo studio in Liverpool. The vertical sign next to Richard is now in the Liverpool Tattoo Museum. Yesterday, my sister Evelyn, Richard and myself stood outside Richard's old tattoo studio and looked up at the few remaining signs, whose paint has now mostly flacked away to reveal bare wood. On the studio's window are stick-on letters which read, "Art", where once it boldly announced his presence as the city's only "Tattoo Artist".  I can remember him buying that simple plastic lettering from an old-fashioned printer's shop. This was in 1993, not long after he'd opened the studio and before he could afford better signs. After he'd patiently stuck them onto the glass we realised that from the outside the sign read "Artist Tattoo", so we had to carefully peel the letters off the window and have another go, laughing over having made such an obvious error yet worried in case we spoiled the letteri

Ancient Rock Carving in Stapledon Woods, Wirral.

Richard on top of the rock, to give an idea of its size.  This strange carving can be found on the Caldy side of Stapledon Woods, facing farm fields which are separated from the wood by a low sandstone wall with a castellated top.  In summer, the rock face is hidden from casual view by trees covering the slope which leads up to it from the path running alongside the sandstone wall. Has anyone got any information about this carving - what it is, its age and purpose?  I've been given several theories; one that it was made for shelter, (which seems dubious as it wouldn't work very well); or that it was somekind of ancient relinquary relating to pre-Xtian religious beliefs.  Any further ideas or documented evidence would be most welcome.