Down to earth

BEACHCOMBING with JO BELASCO

BA Hons History of

Architecture and Design I blame it all on the gargoyle. I had stopped on route to the beach to look for conkers at Upwey. One could hardly miss the outsize tongue on the wonderful gargoyle drain on St Laurence’s church. By the time I made it to the coast all I could see were tongues. Around the ‘narrows’ of the Fleet lagoon there are a lot of weathered bricks along the foreshore. Possibly from the crumble of antiinvasion pillboxes or just that it is getting closer to the conurbation of central Weymouth? It is interesting to see the spectrum of weathering from still shaped like brick to only really recognisable by colour and texture. The slow, unstoppable power of wave and water. I got excited imagining creating a version of the Rolling Stones cover of Sticky Fingers so collected many lingulate bricks. When I got home and inspected said album cover I found I was lacking the lips and so ensued a craft frenzy of invention. Inspired this time by dogs panting I set about drawing a bestiary of lolling tongues. I pondered on why the exceptionally long tongue on the gargoyle makes sense while some of my drawings require a huge dollop of suspended belief. I deduced the answer to be that the gargoyle was functioning for what is was designed to be (a drain) so the odd scale was acceptable? Scale was also a problem when attempting to use a singular blackberry for the dog’s nose… but don’t worry no berries were injured in this project! For a long time a brick sculpted by the coast has taken pride of place on our mantelpiece. I had thought it resembled an old-fashioned rotary telephone and added a piece of driftwood for a hand-set. I tried to argue the case that if it were displayed in a whitewashed sterile modern art environment it might sell for a million. Gathering dust on our cluttered mantelpiece my friends and family found it hard to agree. Gallery walls jostle cheek by jowl in our house, so I was reduced to commandeering the shower for a temporary pop-up studio. An old tripod added (possibly) a touch of techno-chic. Not sure I nailed the right atmosphere – it looks more like a rejected advert for ET. But it was a lot of fun.

WEATHER-BEATEN: Wind, rain and sea water has taken its toll on these bricks

HOW RUDE: A gargoyle poking its tongue out at St Laurence Church in Upwey, a little dog called Blackberry and, right, techno-chic with the help of an old tripod Tongues out for lots of LOLs

The West Dorset Magazine, September 23, 2022 41 Down to earth Milky Way ticked off my bucket list

Kevin Quinn is a Dark Sky Custodian for the Cranborne Chase Dark Sky Reserve who lives in Piddletrenthide. Read his blog at theastroguy.wordpress.com

As I mentioned in my last article (issue 15) I was just about to jet off for a tenday stargazing adventure in darkest Namibia. Originally regarded as a ‘once in a lifetime, bucket list’ affair, such was the breathtaking nature of the experience, I’m already looking into how it might be possible to go back again. A friend and I stayed at the Tivoli Astro Farm, about two hours’ drive south of the capital Windhoek. Situated in the central Namibian plain, the farm provides full board and lodging, plus the hire of telescopes, and there’s zero light pollution – there are no street lights, no sky glow from neighbouring towns, cities, business parks, etc – the only light on a moonless night coming from the stars and the Milky Way above. And TREE SURGERY & what a sight it is... Where I live, under Bortle GARDEN MAINTENANCEClass 4 skies, the Milky Way is visible as a pale, 07826030706cloudy band, which, when scanned using binoculars, reveals a great many stars within. Under the very dark, Bortle Class 1 skies of Namibia, on the other hand, the Milky Way is much, much brighter than it appears here, and positively glitters with myriad stars, the brighter and darker structures in the galaxy clearly visible. The accompanying photo, taken just with my smartphone, gives a pretty good impression of how it appeared. Then there were the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds (satellite galaxies of the Milky Way), plus spectacular globular clusters, such as Omega Centauri and 47 Tucanae (do look ‘em up), everything appearing brighter and clearer due to the overall darkness of the night sky. We ran out of superlatives pretty quickly. Thoughts inevitably turned to coming back to the increasingly light polluted UK, but I'm determined to remain upbeat. Whilst it’s unlikely we’ll ever have class 1 skies in Dorset, or anywhere the country, all is not lost. There are still areas where it’s possible to enjoy the night sky, the Dorset AONB being one. People are becoming more aware of the effects of light pollution, not only on seeing the night sky, but also on our health and the natural environment. The current energy crisis is prompting everyone to think about the excessive use of electricity. People are also discussing protecting the night sky in the same way we regulate and protect other natural

WHAT A SIGHT: The Milky Way as observed through Namibia’s zero light pollution skies resources, such as the coastline, the rural landscape in general, ancient monuments, woodlands, river and sea water quality*, etc. Back in the before-covid times I set up a Facebook group (Dorchester Area Stargazers), with the intention being that people could seek astro advice, arrange stargazing sessions, post their astro pictures, and generally talk astronomy… The pandemic put an end to stargazing get-togethers, and the group was left to languish somewhat. Do check it out. It's a public group, and everyone is welcome, no experience necessary. *Maybe not such a great example…

PAGAN VIEWS by JO BELASCO Three years ago, I had a stroke. Not the kind you get from high blood pressure but the type you can get from sudden and unusual neck movements. No, I didn’t know they existed either but it’s like a lot of things, you don’t know until they bowl into your life and boy, do you know about it then. It was a serious stroke and I ended up at Southampton with a brain surgeon deliberating whether he should operate. About a month before my stroke a gypsy lady waylaid me in a car park at Bridport. She told me that I was about to have a huge life event. She offered to do a tarot reading for me but my mother was waiting for me in the car so I declined. I will always remember as I walked away from her she said: “Lucky”. I did not need brain surgery as my scans showed “remarkable” improvement. By far the worst part for me was a feeling of extreme seasickness which meant I could only hold sustenance down if I lay down. If I stood up –watch out... Many dear friends and many people I have never met sent me healing. In fact the doctors kept sending me to the cat-scan as they couldn’t believe how each scan showed such huge improvement. I remember the orderlies exclaiming about my repeated appearance. That’s the funny thing –everything that happened at that time seemed hyperreal. Even my sense of smell. I got to have some insight into what wine buffs are going on about when they extol the virtues of top and under scents. My sense of hearing was also affected for a short time. The thing I remember most was sitting in my hospital bed while a neighbouring patient had company. One of this man’s visitors stayed just to be near him and settled down with his headphones. I was astounded at the volume of the headbanging music which blared out. I expected patients to wake up in distress and staff to rush to turn it down. The repeated wild chant of “The Ace of Spades, The Ace of Spades” was not doing anything for my GINORMOUS headache. I caught the attention of a nurse and asked her to get him to turn it down. “That music is hurting my head “ I complained. To which she replied, “What music?” Nearly, three years to the day I took this photo near The Verne at Portland. Only later did I see the sword light. I looked up the Ace of Swords tarot card and began to see what the universe was trying to tell me.

Lemmy tell you all about my huge Motorhead-ache

The West Dorset Magazine, September 23, 2022 43 Down to earth So much unnecessary poison spread about ivy

Sally Cooke lives in Tolpuddle with her husband, two grown up sons and her spotty rescue dog. You can follow Sally on Instagram at Sparrows in a Puddle

Spreading up through trees and covering old walls and buildings, ivy is often seen by gardeners as harmful and something to get rid of. But it’s actually an incredibly important plant for wildlife and when the ivy in my hedge starts flowering in September I’m amazed at just how many insects it attracts. Ivy flowers are nothing spectacular and their strong scent is quite unusual, reminding me of the smell of the salt play dough I used to make for the boys! But these clusters (‘umbels’) of small greenish yellow flowers last until November and provide a great source of good quality nectar and pollen when other plants in the garden have faded. Many different species of bees, hoverflies, wasps, and some late butterflies, such as red admiral, are all attracted to it. There are other reasons why I love ivy and believe it should have space in the wildlife garden. Its flower buds are a food source for some moths and for holly blue butterflies. The flowers are followed by fat-rich berries that are eaten by blackbirds, thrushes and woodpigeons. Its dense evergreen foliage provides shelter for invertebrates and small mammals including bats, and in the early spring it provides nesting cover for garden birds such as robins and wrens. In fact, The Woodland Trust suggests that ivy supports some 50 different wildlife species. The poet John Clare described dark creeping ivy…that fondly twists on ruins all thine own, but as it twists over buildings, will it lead to their ruin? An Oxford University study on behalf of Historic England concluded that ivy can actually benefit a building by trapping pollutants and buffering extremes of temperature and humidity and reducing the severity of frosts. It cannot bore into buildings but with careful pruning it can be prevented from growing into and worsening existing cracks and crevices. As for its effect on trees, ivy is not a parasite and does not harm the tree it is growing on, as long it is pruned regularly to prevent it growing so high that it competes for light. Although as Charles Dickens said in his poem The Ivy Green, ivy clings to his friend the huge oak tree, this is just for support and ivy does not take nutrients or water from the tree, so carefully managed ivy can be of great benefit to wildlife.

Let’s take it nice and sloe when making fruity gin

JOHN WRIGHT is a naturalist and forager who lives in rural West Dorset. He has written eight books, four of which were for River Cottage. He wrote the award-winning Forager’s Calendar and in 2021 his Spotter’s Guide to Countryside Mysteries was published.

I thought that another very seasonal berry was in order, so this week it is the humble sloe. These, I am sure you know, are the fruit of the blackthorn, Prunus spinosa, literally, the ‘spiny plum’ because of the long, sharp spines that project at right angles from the branches. Incidentally, these spines are well worth avoiding because they invariably leave a layer of bacterialaden bark inside any inflicted wound that can cause an infection. Sloes are easy to pick and can occur in vast numbers, all clustered together – always a wonderful sight. There is much discussion about when to pick them –before a frost or after. However, I do not hold with such niceties, happy instead to simply pick them when they are ripe, that is, purple all over and slightly soft when squeezed. Apart from a few peripheral recipes such as pickles, a rather challenging wine and fruit leathers, Sloes have only one use – in the making of Sloe Gin. I am often wary of ‘singlerecipe’ wild ingredients, but sloe gin is so good that sloes need no other use. Everyone has their own recipe (a remarkable achievement considering it employs only three ingredients!) and, if not, they are easy enough to find. My advice is to simply wash your sloes and pour in the appropriate amount of sugar and gin (or vodka), close the lid of your Kilner jar and shake it. Shake it again periodically until all the sugar has dissolved. Keep in a dark place as both the colour a flavour can deteriorate dramatically and quickly if exposed to light. You may be a fan of pricking your sloes, but it is not necessary as the process is one of infusion through osmosis, not the movement of spirit into and out of the sloe through holes. Now the big one. If you like your sloe gin simply fruity, it is fine to decant it off after three months or so. If you like it fruity and with a hint of Amaretto, then leave them in for six months. This gives the alcohol time to penetrate to the pip in the centre of the sloe which is effectively a tiny almond (the Latin name for the Almond is Prunus dulcis, the ‘sweet plum’). Drink immediately if you like, or keep for 20 years for a really great drink. Or maybe make a huge batch and then you can do both.