Book #43 Pathlands

Pathlands: 21 Tranquil Walks Among the Villages of Britain by Peter Owen Jones
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Peter Owen Jones has always expressed a deep love for the countryside and the natural world and in Pathlands he follows his heart into the intimate land of footpaths that crisscross Britain. Peter is an Anglican clergyman and lives on the edge of the Sussex Downs.

I have lots of walking books. All of them have been bought with a half-baked intention of actually doing the walks described within them - something I have only ever partially succeeded in.

Jones is something of an existentialist, determining his own development through 21 tranquil walks among the villages of Britain. For each walk, we get Jones' description of it, how it was for him on that particular day, the sights and sounds and smells, the people he meets and doesn't meet, the churches he finds (mostly locked), the birdsong and its absence, the reflections and memories all of this provokes. Jones has a map, he has a plan. The one is needed all the more as the other drifts away from reality. Paths marked on maps aren't always visible on the ground. Paths on the ground aren't always mapped. Jones' response to this is to take a best-guess approach and strike out in roughly the right direction. He'll ask passers-by, he'll study the map – but he'll also climb fences, stumble through ditches and (one feels, quite often) just hope for the best. He uses beautiful expression and does not over-romanticise with a tinge of gentle humour here and there: Brokering peace terms with a goose is always more pleasurable than dealing with a dog in the same mood. Geese don't have teeth. And some lovely turns of phrase when talking about simple things. He tells of an old plough rotting in the corner of a field: it might have been the end of the day, or it started to rain heavily, or maybe it has sheared a bolt and the farmer thought 'I'll just leave it there overnight' and something cropped up the next day which became a week which became a year which became a quarter of a century, and there it remains, like a name in an old address book.

Beautiful description, and philosophical reflection: the natural world is not subject to clocks, to minutes, to weeks. The sparrows are not counting their kings; nor does the mountain measure its standing in metres. The yew is more surely an emblem of patience than of time.

I'm unlikely to walk any of these paths - I don’t have to, but I will think about Jones’ approach when I find myself out on a walk elsewhere….

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The Stone Curlew on the South Downs

The largely nocturnal Stone Curlew is a bird that nests on open, bare, preferably stony ground or areas with vegetation height below 2cm. Arable land needs to have short or sparse vegetation before being accepted and is rarely suitable for nesting birds beyond May or June.

The Stone Curlew

In 1768 Gilbert White advised Thomas Pennant that in the breeding season 'I could shew you them almost any day; and any evening you may hear them round the village for they make a clamour which may be heard a mile'. In 1938 Walpole-Bond wrote that there were 'quite sixty pairs of Stone-curlews breeding in Sussex'.

Changes in agricultural practices that destroyed most of the semi-permanent grasslands and the arrival of Myxomatosis, that left vegetation ungrazed by rabbits, were almost certainly the principal reasons why, after a steady decline in the 1960s and 1970s, this fascinating bird ceased to breed in Sussex in the 1980s. Its return in 2007 and its continued breeding success in Sussex is therefore most welcome and is thanks to the enthusiastic support of the landowners and the stewardship of dedicated ornithologists. It is only with the co-operation of farmers and landowners that this highly specialised bird will thrive.

And these are the same farmers and landowners who do not support the badger cull....

The Chailey Beer Festival

It was sunny when we left Brighton. We crossed the South Downs into cloud cover and arrived at our friends' house to be met with a blustery wind and a sprinkling of rain. It did not bode well. Graeme's wife, Anne, drove Graeme, Graham and me to the Beer Festival location - a large open sport field in North Chailey. We surrendered our tickets, received a wrist band to exit and enter again (wishful thinking on the part of the organisers) and looked around this very large open space. Four portaloos, a bouncy castle (at a beer festival?!), two stages for the bands appearing, a hog-roast, a burger bar and one beer tent, open on all sides... There must have been around fifty stalwart people on this large sport-field!

We made our way to the beer tent expecting a large selection of real ales. There were five... We ordered three pints of Harveys Best Bitter (4.0%) brewed by Harveys in Lewes and sat at one of the few tables on offer.

Graham and Graeme

Yours truly

We sat and listened to Lady M & the Mr Men pumping out rock arias at high volume. Strewth! Time to move on to three pints of St Austell Tribute (4.2%) brought all the way from Cornwall and returned to our seats in time for John McDevitt, a particularly talented folk/rock singer accompanying himself on guitar and harmonica. Much better.

The next pint was Long Man Golden Tipple (5.0%) from a brewery in Littlington, East Sussex - so certainly 'local'. I sat and contemplated the new Brasher boots - at least they kept my feet warm, apart from the rest of me that was slowly icing up in the cold weather!

Brasher boots - comfy and warm...

The next band, Newick Folk, came on at 5:00pm (dull as ditchwater!) and helped us to make the decision to make a hurried departure and retire across the road to The Kings Head public house.  The pub was warm and welcoming. We ordered our food and had a thoroughly enjoyable meal accompanied by further 'refreshments'.

At 7:00pm a quick 'phone call to Anne secured our transport back home to the warmth of 'Swan Cottage' and some Saturday night TV.

The Festival was disappointing, which had much to do with the inclement weather. I expect that the organisers had much to regret. A shame. 

Green Hairstreak Butterfly Making a Recovery

The Green Hairstreak Butterfly Callophrys rubi appears to be making a recovery in the South Downs. In 2012 only 38 sightings were recorded across both East and West Sussex as the species suffered a huge drop in numbers due to the bad weather.

The Green Hairstreak Butterfly

But in May 2013, 63 of these bright green, iridescent butterflies were recorded near Storrington, West Sussex in just one day.

The site where the butterflies are thriving has recently been cleared of invasive scrub as part of a project to improve and increase chalk grassland across the South Downs National Park, which is vital to the survival of species such as the green hairstreak. Chalk grassland is an internationally important but endangered habitat often described as being as rich and diverse as tropical rainforest. But less than five percent of the National Park remains as chalk grassland.