Knapp and Papermill Nature Reserve

The Knapp and Papermill is a nature reserve owned by Worcestershire Wildlife Trust and I walked around it a few days ago. The visitor centre had an interesting notice board upon which visitors and the Warden could note down the wildlife that had recently been seen on the reserve. What inspired me though was what may have been quite mundane to many people but which, to me, was a beautiful work of nature and creation.

The reserve has an old apple orchard which you approach as you walk down to the stream from the entrance. The huge old apple trees are on a gentle hillside bordered by the river and trees at the bottom and woodland on the other sides, forming a small enclosed orchard in a small valley. I love meadowsweet, but here were clouds of the beautiful cream flowers, red stems and almost turquoise leaves carpeting the orchard. There were also docks, greater willowherb, umbellifers (may have just been Cow Parsley), convolvulous, tall grasses and brambles all intertwining over each other between the trees. There was a beautiful assemblage of creams, greens and pale browns. Occasional white butterflies speckled and danced in the dappled sunlight. The stream murmured in the background, the air was still, very warm and it was mainly sunny. The tall apple trees towered upwards, already laden with small fruits and their high canopies umbrellering outwards. The grasses gently swayed in the breeze and mistletoe clung to many trees.

Why describe it? A lesson in observation. It was a beautiful place, an ideal place to be after a long walk in hot sunshine over the nearby Suckley Hills. Sometimes a place just reaches out to me and almost asks me to join with it in appreciating creation.

Resurgence River Meditation

These are my reflections on an early morning meditation at the Resurgence Summer Camp 2008:

We gathered in the campsite, about 12 of us, at 6.30 am on a warm and sunny July morning. I knew we would be going down to the river and, like the others slowly joining the group, had decided not to go barefoot. One man turned up barefoot and was asking if it would be alright to do so and was wondering what the ground would be like. We agreed it would be fine for him and, as I was slightly envious of him' I said "I will journey with you". So off came my shoes too. It the end, as we silently set off, three of us hardy men felt the coldness of the early morning dew beneath our feet and the soft refreshing grass.

Walking, slowly, silently, in single file. Trying to keep a rhythm between our breath and our careful footsteps. Down the field, through the trees, over the stile and out into the flat grassy sheep-shawn grass of the meadow alongside the river. Alders stretched out along the river bank of the River Teme which meandered through the red soil of the rich earth. The tall Balsam with ornate pink flowers, magnificent constructions of origamied petals, joined the clusters of nettles over which we could peer down to the gentle waters to our left. Along the sheep path we journeyed, dodging nettles, to a place where the alders provided a shaded resting place overlooking the calm waters for us mindful walkers.

Green Woodpecker, Pheasant, sea gull, a Wren singing, crow, possibly Blue or Great Tits; and was that a Kingfisher I just heard flying past down the river? And a Dipper too?

In the distance a farmer was irrigating a field: I am aware of cycle of the water from the river to the crops to the food eat. Connections are everywhere.

We rest for a while. The perfect sound of a singing bowl drawing in our focus. Others sit, but I stand, listening to how the ringing fills the air and intermingles with the trees. How do I feel about it I wonder? I had never come across the sound of these in practice before this weekend, but the it seemed to blend in. I liked it.

I touch the alders, bright green in the sunshine. Their rough bark softened by the algae. I run my fingers down through the crevices in the bark and sense the variety of the different ages of trees. Even though I am with a group of people, still no-one has said a word. I am amazed at the peace and awareness to the experience that these folks bring. I don't remember having been with people who have revered meditation like this before - perhaps they all knew what to expect, perhaps this is in tune with Buddhist practice.

We are eventually called by three rings of the bowl to gather and begin our journey back. We pause in one corner of the field for one final look over the meadow. We stand in a circle, asked to bow to each other and then to bow to the "Masters" (whether that be to Jesus, Buddha or whoever - I'm not used to some of these rituals!). At the exact same moment we all face the sun to do that a group of three or four swans takes off from a patch of water out of view to our right and fly across the meadow in front of us calling distinctively. Looks of awe and amazement fill the us all. This was an incredibly moving moment.

* * * * *

There are probably many metaphors that could be applied to the swans appearing when they did. Swans and Masters, Royal and Sovereign, Nature as Teacher. It is up to me to read into it as much as I want to. It may have been coincidence, but perhaps this was a true moment where Nature, God and humans interact. Like the butterfly in the tent later that day (see previous blog). When you spend time outside, you experience things in a different way. Someone wrote to me recently and prayed that God (or was it Jesus?) would reveal Himself to me in a real way. Perhaps this was that moment. Perhaps the whole weekend was a revelation for me. I felt deep love.

Thank you, June, for your guidance and showing me a practical outworking of slowness and mindful meditation.

Resurgence Summer Camp 2008

I have just returned from the Resurgence Summer Camp held at the Green and Away tented conference centre in Worcestershire. I hadn't been before and was a little apprehensive at what I would find. In the end I came back on an emotional high, not an ecstatic or adrenaline filled high, but a deep feeling that I had at last made some deep connections within me that had been yearning to find a home. I could write at length about many things, but perhaps they will evolve into further blogs. Instead I offer a summary of notes from my notebook and a glimpse into some personal experiences.

• A group of 100 or so people with whom I felt a deep affinity and connectedness with at many different levels


• A great campsite: vegetarian food, all meals outdoors, wood-burning showers, solar power, compost toilets, camp fire and all intimately surrounded by trees.


• Although I didn't attend many of the main talks (too much already to think about) I found the workshops on creative writing very inspiring. I would have done the Deep Ecology one but got tied up with a very interesting discussion group on the use of spirituality in daily life


• Talks by Satish Kumar were very inspiring as was his idea to promote Slow Sunday and to get us all making bread


• The morning meditations were hugely profound to me. It is ages since I have been in such deep group meditations and these were unique to me. Very holistic, very open and I felt completely free to be who I am. The silent walk down by the river for an hour or so at 6.30 am on a beautiful sunny summer's morning was amazing. I'll write it as a separate blog


• Spending time in the kitchen cutting boxes of cauliflowers, chopping piles of carrots and cucumbers and making a bucket load of bread was a big highlight


• Washing all the kitchen pots, pans and utensils after the first evening meal


• Sitting on my own in a large yurt on a hot summers day surrounded by comfy cushions and just listening to muted sounds of the camp outside


• Showering out of doors and looking at the campsite around me


• Swimming in the nearby river on a hot summer afternoon with cows looking on


• The Sweat Lodge and subsequent mud bath! I had been apprehensive about this but after chatting with someone I went along. It was great, only about 10 of us, but it was well lead and I felt no sort of scary spiritual undertones. It was very dark, very hot and great fun!


• Wildflower walk: we were all given magnifying glasses and went to see what flowers we could find around the campsite. Everyone found this fascinating.


• Conversations. I had too many to remember!


• The meeting on daily spirituality. I was deeply moved by this gathering/sharing when we all stood together to hold hands. Don't know why, but I wanted to cry! Perhaps I was feeling no longer alone and some of the people had walked a path similar to that which I have done (as had others on the camp). We were joined by a butterfly and a baby toad by the way!


• Walking barefoot for several days


• Listening to the band Dragonsfly, and the storyteller (pictured)


• Helen Moore, eco-poet


• The Grief of the Earth


• Labyrinths being a form of body meditation and prayer (not that I walked the one there though).


• An apple tree shows unconditional love: all are welcome to have an apple, humans, birds, wasps and worms etc.


• Love is not the same as liking.


• Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it (quote from Mary Oliver, Poet)


• Teach me


• Sitting under a tree is a temple


• Creation is always ongoing


• Hold a bread making/eating party


• Make beautiful things - slowly!


• When God made time, he made plenty of it


• Why waste finite materials to save infinite time?


• Art is good art when you use it in your life

And more!

The camp was gift to me to appreciate and unwrap. I could have done much more, listened more, spoken to people more and thought more, but I did what I did and I feel profoundly moved. Thank you to all the people I met, to all who organised it and to the whole of Nature and the Great Creator for being there for us.

Observation and Reflection: Summer Hedgerow

Observation:
It is a warmish July morning near Offley. A strong breeze flows over the landscape and an occasional light dusting of rain dampens only the air. The barley is golden and in the distance I hear the first distinct hum of a combine this year. I'm on a bridleway passing through the fields and I reach a patch of low hedgerow alongside a small field of set-aside grass. A short length of grasses and an abundance of flowers captivates me for an hour or so as I sketch and observe a community of nature full of energy and life.

The obvious flowers are the lilac Scabious and the deep red-purple Knapweed. Their flowers reaching above the herbage to be alighted upon by bees, butterflies and other insects. Other flowers I find are a small Cranesbill, Agrimony, Black Medic, Skullcap (?), White Clover, Bryony, Blackberry, Ragwort, Plantain, Yellow Vetchling and a few other species - as yet unidentified.

The butterflies are amazing. Silently they flutter around the flowers, sometimes dancing, sometimes fighting (?), sometimes still on a flowers, sometimes always on the move and never resting. I see Marbled Whites, Gatekeepers, Ringlets, Large Whites and a brown (Heath Brown?). I watch the bumble bees with loaded pollen sacks on their legs, again possibly five or six varieties buzzing about. Hoverflies and beetles gather around some of the flowers and small Grasshoppers chirrup around me. Occasionally I see them jump around my feet. The are small and so well camouflaged against the browns and greens on the foliage at ground level.

Buzzards and circling nearby, calling. Do I hear a skylark? Another unseen bird flutters in the hedgerow in front of me.

Beside me was an area of set-aside unmown grasses. Just standing and watching the movement of the grasses in the wind was inspiring. A mass of light, feathery, soft, shimmering seed heads all waving and moving en-mass when caught in the breeze. Perhaps almost a mist - a strong blurred movement of the lightest brown, almost irridescent grasses.

Reflection:

Thank you for this place of the dancing butterflies, this hedgerow belonged to them today - theirs to savour the Scabious and Knapweed - amidst the waves of the breeze, the chirping call of grasshoppers and the calling Buzzards. This patch of creativity, of nature in its fullness of fertility and reproduction was a singular patch amidst the surrounding blandness of barley fields. An explosion of colour: lilacs, purples, whites, yellow and pinks amidst the lushness greenness of growth. A place of peace and yet deep creation. I had been asking all week for a deep place of revelation to be shown to me today and this patch of nature doing what it does best seemed to present itself to me on many different levels. Just admiring the striking beauty of the Marbled White butterflies on the Knapweed was one thing. Thinking about how this micro-haven of nature removed my thoughts away from work and life and things was another. I was perhaps most struck at how such a length of hedgerow, perhaps a hundred yards or so in length and away from the reach of the farm sprayer could produce a vidid island of creativity. How much do we dominate nature and quell its creativity, life and beauty? This small area was like a living body in itself, an interrelating system of diversity built upon the connectedness of so many different species. Ecology at its best. But, of course, I do not wish to anthropomorphosize the place as necessarily a place of beauty and with intrinsic natural goodness from the point of view its 'self'. I look upon it from the outside, and for all that live their, each part of the flora and fauna is struggling with survival - a constant synthesis of life and death. As I step away and continue my walk I feel that I am leaving behind something special.

None of this is essentially new to me. What I am attempting to do is to really begin to observe the landscape around me and place it into a psychological framework - and write about it too. I have spent many years just observing, but now I want to think about it in a deeper way. To explore, to be inspired, to learn, to journey...

New Places

We are all searching for new places. New places to inspire us. New places that take us away from the sameness that can bind our lives. Places that may not always be physical. We humans have the capacity to explore, to search, to create - to change the place where we find ourselves. Whether that is by changing the physical, social, psychological or spiritual world in which our souls inhabit. Other life forms on this earth probably don't share such a capacity for initiating change in the way that we can perceive - or at least not on our 'immediate' timescale. When did you last see the trees in a local park get up and walk down to the local pub to have a chat? Or the stones in a road get up and decide they have had enough of being driven over by cars? Our culture is saturated with the expectations that we can change our lives, to better it, to move to a higher level of satisfaction, awareness, and fulfillment.

I see this in myself. I often feel un-stimulated and often need some creative energy to lift me out of a state of complacency or frustration at nothing happening in my life (when actually so much is happening - it is just I get numbed by routines). I have talked before about all the things that I would like to do and all I can do is chip away a them bit by bit, little by little.

A few weeks ago I was watching Chris Puleston and his drum circle in Hitchin and it was just one of those memorable occasions when you get captivated by colour, sound and energy. It was a new place for me. A place to experience the unknown, the unexpected, the senses and intense creativity. But then likewise my blog entry Waterfall in the Trees was an equivalent experience. Both were very different, yet similar and unexpected. From both experiences I came away wanting to do something. For one it was to write a poem, for the other it was to make my own shirts!

I think I like to be in new places of creativity. It could be at a music concert, it could be at an art gallery, it could be in a field, it could be in a cafe. A cafe? A field? Cafes or some other eating places are great places to just sit, think, draw, write or observe. I can find them hugely creative places, depending on the circumstances that is. You are sort of isolated in your own little world of your own table and coffee cup but yet surrounded by a continually changing environment of people and sound that isn't usually intrusive (unless you get someone joining you at your table!).

Fields, or indeed almost any outdoor more nauturalised areas, are full of the creative energy of Creation. That is why I enjoy walking and cycling so much. Every field, hedgerow, tree, ditch, overgrown corner, bridleway, fence post or woodland is a place of constant inspiration and a place to watch and observe, to touch and smell, to listen and think, to imagine and create. Despite the fact that a high percentage of the environment around me is man-made or man-managed, I know that the creative force of nature takes hold of any place, even if it be the most microscopic green algae on a tree or an ant crossing a road.

Next week I am going to the Resurgence Readers Camp and looking forward to being in a new place. A place of meeting new people, sharing new ideas, experiencing new food, doing new things and looking for new ways to view the world. Sometimes stepping out into the new can be hard, sometimes it is easy - I've talked about adventure and passion in a recent blog. I am little bit apprehensive but I am looking forward to being amongst some 'alternative' creative people for once.

I love the Grey

Oh, do it write this or not, or am I just revisiting old problems.....? Pooey, here goes...

I am finding it hard to be positive about this but I was with a group of people recently and to say that I got rather stressed by the situation was an understatement. Now, I'm not going to say who they were or divulge the fine details of the evening as they were a fine bunch of people and I wish to try and maintain a diplomatic and balanced perspective.

But, you know, for some people there is only black and white. They know what they believe and, although they seem to be accepting of different perspectives, the underlying psychological pressure to believe their black and white is intense. For a 'Grey' person, who has a more Holistic outlook, you just have to sit there and stew in silence feeling unable to draw upon deep theological knowledge to back up any of your arguments and knowing full well that any divergent ideas would be met with the unswerving Christian 'only one way and we have it' response (verbally or in thought).

I tried to be hugely positive and was deciding whether to say something or not. Being outspoken before has got me into trouble so I pondered long before politely thanking them for the evenings study and saying "I love the Grey".

I have written before about the Celtic idea of accepting the "Maybe". Perhaps I am liberal, perhaps I am always sitting on the fence, perhaps I am always avoiding conflict - but, hey, that's me.

There is much concern in the Anglican church at the moment about the Ordination of women and homosexuality. I see traditionalists and modernists fighting and causing division. Each has their own deeply held theological standpoint. So, in a sense then, each is right, for each claims ultimate 'biblical truth'. To me it almost reinforces the idea that there is no 'one way', there can be different paths, but people somehow get bogged down in their own states of belief/conditioning that it causes tension and argument. Is this a frightened response that shows their insecurity in their own faith? What are people afraid of loosing? What are they holding onto?

Now, I am not saying that I am pro-homosexuality, anti-Jesus or anything like that. I am not saying either that I don't have black and white ideas about somethings.

I am learning, developing, absorbing - and sometimes SCREAMING with frustration too! I have my cross to bear - like those who are facing tough times in the church.

And what can I do about it.....?

And why is this subject in particular so able to wind me up?

Conflict. Perhaps that is it. And also fear that I could be making a huge mistake. But that is the risk I take on journeying.

Blearaearggghhhhh!!!!

Berries

A photograph of some berries by the side of the road on the industrial estate where I work. I expect most people just pass them by, but in the early morning sunshine they caught my eye with their beautiful colours.

Waterfall in the Trees

On Telegraph Hill, early one very windy Sunday morning in July. I tried to capture the movement of the leaves in the photo, but you might have to use your imagination a little!

I am sitting on a path,
sheltering at the edge of a wood.
Listening to a full wind
in the hill-top woodland.

Waterfall.

The constant thunderous under-current
of water upon water,
leaves upon leaves.
The tree tops are in turmoil
swaying, crashing, pounding.
Leaves are upturned, twisting
with silvery backs, shimmering,
and fluttering;
holding on tight.
And a delicate spray:
the gentle swaying
of grasses and leaves
at my level.

Waves of sound
as the trees all move
together, a body in unison.
Graceful, yet with a sense of unease
and destruction of the weak.
Ash, Sycamore, Beech and Hazel;
the wind and the sound
both unseen, invisible and awesome
an erotic gathering of the senses.

Nature: Living Bible

A note in my sketchbook. I'm re-reading Original Blessing by Matthew Fox and his ideas on Creation Spirituality. It's premise is basically that the earth was made originally good and the fall/redemption ideology has distorted the concept of the Divine creative energy that God imbued in creation. It is quite a liberal theology but I love it. I'd like to expand on it more here at some stage but I don't really was to just repeat large chunks of the books here. I'd love to study it further as it does actually want to make me take a deeper look at the Bible, but getting my head around deep theology isn't easy.

It is hard for us to understand the entirety of the created cosmos. I am not a creationist (literal 7 days to create the earth) and quite happy with idea that the earth has been around for millions of years quietly getting on with the process of creation. Hmm, perhaps Creation is a better word for Evolution as I am not sure that the latter fully encompasses the entirely process of Earth's development. From that perspective the recent Christocentric time frame within we seem to place much of our history and development seems almost inconsequential. If God's creative energy has been at work for so long in forming the earth that nourishes plant roots, the butterflies that dance in summer sunshine and clouds that bring rain to the mountain streams; then are we humans not the most arrogant, self-centered and destructive life forms to walk upon this fragile land?

Can Nature be my Living Bible?

How can I enter a truly authentic mystical faith that draws up nature and Creation for its Being?

And, possibly more interestingly, how can I find people that share similar ideas? The internet is fine as a starting point but it lacks proper personal contact. I am not sure I am ready to return to our church yet so I do feel a bit isolated. Perhaps i should start a group... or do something... or just scream with frustration!

Evening Bike Ride

It isn't often that I go out for an evening bike ride, I ought to go out more often as I love being out at that time of the day. For once it was a beautiful sunny, warm and wind free evening and I cycled over some the local hills. There have been some superb clouds again recently, what with the changeable weather and it was wonderful to be out watching the sun, clouds and light changes as the evening drew to close. I saw the odd muntjac deer but also a couple of young foxes playing at edge of some woodland not too far away from me. I occasionally see the odd one, but rarely have I seen two like this. Whilst standing in a patch of woodland with my bike just wondering what I could see and hear, I was suddenly away of something on the path next to me. On looking round I saw a Hare only about 6 feet away from me. It turned a bolted away with just a faint padding sound. I was surprised it had approached me so closely, but perhaps its mind was thinking of other things and wasn't paying attention to what was in front of it. The evening light was superb and there were some good colours amongst the cumulus clouds.

I'm still exploring the potential of my digital camera and but often forget to just play around with it. This scabious, on top of a hillside with the sun setting behind it, was providing a good evening snack for a bumble bee. I ought to explore some more sort of arty photographs. With my old film camera it was always expensive playing around. I wouldn't have taken photos into the sun before, but this scabious looked beautiful with it's lilac flowers surrounded by a ring of transluscent petals.

Currants

With only one red and one black currant bush in the garden I was pleased to get a good plateful of currants this year. I've had them covered with netting all spring to keep the birds off. I could perhaps have left them on the bush for another couple of days as they were a little sharp, but still delicious with some vanilla ice cream. I've frozen some of them along with yet more strawberries which have produced a very abundant crop this year.

The runner beans are finally shooting up the bean poles and the new potatoes are delicious. Somehow my succession of lettuces has ground to a halt - either through slug damage, or seedlings that do not seem to want to grow. I've just managed to buy some purple sprouting plants and these will fill a gap where the potatoes have been and they will undoubtably provide welcome food for caterpillars when we go on holiday!