Micra car meets Macro hole!......

As you may have heard, England is suffering from extensive flooding at the moment. So you may ask, why did I take a route to the village of Hints by a way that I know full well has a ford?....Cos it's FUN! This is the same tranquil pool at the former mill site as pictured previously in "Just a walk in the woods". A little more turbulent than usual!

For most of the year this ford is dry. It used to be the old course of the stream (Blackbrook), but the main flow of water was diverted under the lane further ahead via a brick lined tunnel. It is only when the tunnel is overwhelmed that this becomes flooded. Once this was just a dirt track, but now it is tarmacked and you can normally predict the depth as the gradient is gradual.

A small Hawthorn tree had blown down in the storms, but there was room to get around it and the waters seemed calm enough. Tentatively I moved forward, window down and peering at the water level at my wheels, all appeared fine. The water was lapping about halfway up the wheels, no problem I thought. WOAhh!!..The front end of the car dropped like a stone...water and debris surged over the bonnet....the horn blared spontaneously. I raced the engine praying it wouldn't stall. Whipped it into reverse, and with a roar, a whine of gears and a gush of muddy water the car thankfully lurched violently backwards and out.

The edge of the road must have washed away. I was so relieved to have got away with it. How the engine had managed to cope and keep running was beyond belief!

I reversed up the lane and pulled in. This is when I saw the additions to my bonnet and feared the worse.....

There was all sorts of twig and leaves hooked up on the bonnet edge and spotlights.

I half expected the bumper or lights to be damaged. Apart from an alarming grating noise, which was soon rectified by scraping handfuls of mud from the brakes, it seem I had got off lightly!

The 4x4 that had been playing in the shallows at the far end of the ford, on seeing the results of proceeding any further, made a hasty retreat!

Little Micra was taken home. He was fully checked out. Thoroughly cleaned with a pressure washer and his delicate parts re-lubed. Micra was very happy that he hadn't drowned, and was ready for more adventures....

Just a walk in the woods.....

Nature was calling..No, I don't mean that way, (I went before I came out!). It was sunny and I had not had chance to get out into the greenery for a while.

This is the old mill site near the village of Hints. I love the sign on the way into the village, "Hints, please drive carefully", I took the 'hint' as there were lots of Gatsos.

The main dam still survives, one of the few features not too overgrown. Many of the leats and courses don't reveal themselves until you're up to your waist in mud!

Black brook used to feed the mill, but now meanders unimpeded. The banks are lined with Himalayan Balsam (a foreign invader), the bees and damsel flies seem to like it, but it swamps everything else out and when it dies back in winter leaves the banks bare and open to erosion.

A flash of blue! A small bird flies low to the water along the length of the stream and perches on a branch right next to me. It's a Kingfisher! I'd just switched my camera off and tucked it away safe in my rucksack. Scrabbling at my bag I found the camera. The brightly coloured chap sat there gently bobbing on his perch looking amused at my frantic antics. Got my camera....starting up...'Welcome'....don't welcome me, just switch on! On, zoom in, focus,..press button. Got it!

Yes! I'd got it. This perfectly framed, close up picture of where a Kingfisher once sat.

I took a step back to see where it had gone, (((Crunch))) I hadn't noticed my picnic falling out of my bag and now I'd stomped it into the mud! This chap knew what he was doing, I reckon he'd played this trick before. He's going on the list!

Knowing that Kingfishers tend to use the same fishing post regularly, I hung around for a while. In the meantime I contented myself by taking some pics of Emerald Damsel flies on the far bank.

These made a nice change from the blue ones that I see when kayaking. Often they end up in the water while 'fighting' with their reflections. It is always a race to save them before a Chubb gives them a nasty suck. I say suck, because they never get eaten, they must taste bad as they get spat out almost immediately. The nose of the kayak is employed as drying area and recovery room.

The farmer and his dog....How many times has this fooled me? It's just a couple of tree stumps! The first time had been in winter, late afternoon and it was going dark. I had wandered off the path and didn't want a remonstration with an irate farmer telling me to get off his land. I waited ages for him to go, what the hell is he doing? Why can't he go away? Eventually I could wait no longer. I felt such a berk when I realised my mistake.

What I thought was his waist, is an iron band left over from a protective cage. Ironic, that the cage that was put there to save damage from livestock, 150 years later probably killed it!

I remembered to take the high ground. The lower meadow looks beautiful, but beware! This must have been the mill pool at one time. Skipping merrily among the wild flowers, I once found myself stranded on a small tussock, an island among what seemed a minefield of peaty bog holes. Unable to quite remember the route in, (too busy skipping) it took me ages to pick my way out.

This once used to be part of the Canwell estate. At the turn of time there used to be a priory, secreted amongst the trees in a huge hollow, (I found the ruins a while ago, they're creepy, posting in the off!) this was superseded by a great hall. Eventually this developed into a farming estate, and in the 1800's in the land grab of the enclosures, much of the previous 'common land' was fenced off. Many of the richest estates had this distinctive iron fencing. Inheritance tax, designed to bring about the demise and unfairness of these big estates, led to the Canwell lands being distributed as small holdings to deserving returning first world war soldiers. Grandeur's such as stone gate posts, mills and this railing are gradually being consumed by nature.

The sun was fierce and the incline tiring as I completed the arduous final leg to my picnic destination. The hill steepened (as often they do as you get older), but just when I'd had enough, the path levelled out and the soft grass invited me to sit a while....

A lovely spot that photos can never do justice, (especially when your camera battery has gone flat!). Rolling hills to the east, firs and fields as far as 'crows castle' (a hill topped with a mound and a circle of Scots pines where the buzzards now roost) to the west.

Now, where's that food....Oh look, really thin sandwiches, and lots of tiny, tiny crisps!

"From little acorns...."

This is Chris and Alex, Russell and Maxines cheeky chappies. See them at http://russandmax.blogspot.com/ . Sitting in their rocking chairs you might think they're ready to retire, but actually they are just about to complete their first year! To mark this milestone I decided to plant them a tree....

Grown from seed and now fully 'hardened off' this Common Ash needs a home. Ash are hardy, robust and grow huge.

They're also very heavy!

So, where do we plant it? It needs to be somewhere that it can have a chance of maturing, undisturbed by developments. 'Rock Hill' near Hints village seems ideal. It may not look that promising from the map, but it is high up, accessible by footpath, and the area is already planted with saplings as a continuation of the 'National Forest', so it should be left alone.

Unfortunately the hill is also nearly 500ft, and I've got to lug a tree, a water carrier, spade and anything else up to the top! I'm pleased to introduce my faithful Sherpa...Jenny.

At the top, once my vision cleared and the palpitations slowed, I began to dig the necessary hole. There were some bad words said as my spade repeatedly bounced off the surface. It was like concrete. Luckily it was only a crust of 'bunter' pebbles and once through it got substantially easier.

These might look like something you would hang in a budgie cage, but actually the soil is a bit sandy up here and in its early years this little sapling will need this slow release fertilizer until its roots are big enough to cope. They remind me of those sesame snaps you can buy in health food stores. I am a bit peckish after all that digging..I wonder...NO, nasty!

All tucked in, and just in the nick of time, the wind is picking up and it looks like rain. Tethered to a firm stake by a degradable sleeve, I give it a final water and, that's it for another 200+ years!

The views up here are great. You can see for miles in most directions, and it's the best place for watching sunsets.

When little Alex and Chris are older this is where they can find their tree.

And because my 7 year old GPS isn't very accurate, look for this sign next to it. It should last, your names are burnt onto a 2 inch thick slab of oak.

Not so sure about the durability of my crude (only had a sheath knife) carving, but should it deteriorate you can whittle your own now you've got your matching rocking chairs!