• The marsh in Winter

    Midwinter on the marsh. This morning’s sharp frost, a low sun and the chill threat of showers sweeping in from the north, combine to colour and etch the landscape. A section of a rainbow briefly touches the Mill Marsh as a brief squall washes in. A Kestrel is mobbed by a Crow and I hear the high pitched call of an unseen Kingfisher. The river runs high in its banks and the pool below the sluice does not look at all inviting. The dogs and I are thankful for the frost which has made out progress much easier over the muddy well-used river path.

    By the time we reach the Common, the sun has raised the air temperature as long as we keep out of the wind. Moles have pockmarked the drier sections of river bank, but the soke dykes are full and the drains are running. Just below the

    Rainbow on the marsh
    Rainbow on the marsh

    horizon, the sun picks out the colours of cottages.

  • Brampton carol singing 2014

    Thank you to all those who sang carols so heartily under a starlit sky during Christmas Eve around the village. We are grateful those who welcomed us to their door steps and into their houses, to those who delayed or interrupted their meals and helped us celebrate Christmas. You generously donated £212.77 to our collection in aid of the East Anglian Children’s Hospice.

  • Carol Service

    Christmas at Brampton Church 2014

     

  • Frost in December – winter arrives in the village

    Early December and the first real frost of the month. The grass on the Long Meadow white and brittle. A Kingfisher whirred away downstream in front of us along the Mermaid and, not finding a nearby wide ditch to it’s liking, it doubled back towards us calling loudly and flew up and over the railway embankment in search of quieter reaches. At this time of the year the rich orange breast of the bird glowed in contrast to the dazzling blue of its back.

    All trees except the Oaks have lost their leaves. Around the Field Maples there are pools of yellow leaf-carpets. The Poplars have changed their note in the breeze, now the branches emit a low moan and no longer the sibilant whisper of the leafy early autumn. Strangely, some of the Oak leaves are still quite green and have yet to succumb to the ochre and orange of the discard.

    The finches, mostly Linnets and goldfinches, have gathered in flocks along the ditch side Alders. Their contact calls drift on the breeze.

  • Sounds and scents in November

    I like the smells and texture of November. Helen shared her view of the underrated month as walked under a clear starlit night. At last the temperature had dropped after a fortnight or so of rain and fog. Underfoot the going was soft, the mud a slippery plastic. There was no wind and the Field Maples has dropped their first batch of rich yellow leaves. The Red Oaks along the old railway line had succumbed at once and a rich bronze leaf carpet lay along the floor if the cutting. Every footprint yielded the sharp scent of denying leaves. It is the sort of scent that evokes memories of long past autumns; the pure pleasure of kicking through wind-raked piles of fallen leaves.

    Further along the sharp stink of a Fox hung in the air, so acrid and fresh that we must have disturbed him on his rounds. The dogs pressed forward along the trail of some invisible creature. All three converge on a gateway in Back Lane in an ecstasy of a find. They strain at the leash as something noisily jumps from the lee of the hedge and flees to the centre of the field. The Fox, we think, until we look across from descending road through the next hedge gap. The unmistakeable shape of a Roebuck is just silhouetted against the sky line – he watches us from a safe distance and visibly relaxes as we walk down the lane and away.

    Overhead, to the east, the star Aldebaran glows orange on the tip of one of the horns of Taurus.

  • Autumn song

    Before dawn the only sounds are the fall of leaves in the light breeze and the distant call of a Fox. Later as the first light arrives the variety of sounds increase. Birdsong has settled into its Autumn pattern. Loud shouts from the Wrens. Dualling Robins. The chatter of Greenfinches and when the blue sky appears the drifting melody of the Skylark lightens the mood.

     

  • Flocks

    The movement of birds in flocks is becoming more marked as we reach late October. The daily commute of Rooks and Jackdaws seem to fill the shorter daylight hours. Arrowing groups of Starlings head somewhere with purpose. Finches raid the bird table in noisy clusters. Golden Plover continue to stop over mid-migration. As we walk to the allotment on Sunday morning, a flock of a hundred or so circle overhead calling with a light whistling call which drifts on the breeze. The ocassional clear starlit night will assist their onward progress southwards.

  • The arrival of new neighbours

    The frenzy of lead-tugging, sniffing and running back and forth from the dogs as where approached the house reminded me about our new neighbours. Not house neighbours but newish residents of the copse. Just before harvest one of the local Roe deer moved in. I almost tripped over her whilst trying to approach a hawk which happened to be perched nearby. She sprang up from her comfortable lie as soon as I got within ten feet of her. The form of her body left a warm depression in the long grass of the woodland margin. She merely watched me from a reasonable distance, confident that a thirty yard head start was more than enough.

    Since then she was joined by a Roebuck, who eyed us from the field with a confident disdain as we walked past along the road.

    This evening’s Whippet frenzy merely confirmed the deer’s continued residence. More active at dusk they wander in search of succulent grass as the vegetation becomes more Autumnal and declines in quality.

  • Visitors from the Arctic tundra call in to Brampton

    This morning a plaintive whistling drifted down from a hundred-strong flock of Golden Plover. They circled over the Town Field and banked towards their favoured ground. Each Autumn and Spring they call In for a brief respite on their migration from the Arctic tundra to their African wintering quarters. Always the same place. Nearly always at the same time. Their contact calls can be heard on clear starlit nights as they reconvene in ever larger flocks. A little piece of the wild north drifts through the village with a promise of cooling air.

  • An exploration of Roman Brampton – a talk by archaeologist Alice Lyons

    Last night at Brampton church Norfolk archaeologist, Alice Lyons, delivered a detailed and enlightening talk upon the Roman history of the village. Or, more specifically, the Roman town which originally lay to the south of the current settlement. A site of both pottery and leather manufacture at a scale unmatched anywhere else in Roman Britain. A site of 150 permanent pottery kilns at Brampton at a time when a 20 kiln site would have been considered big. Busy wharves loading shallow drafted coastal shipping, a stone built bathhouse in an otherwise timber built town. A key communication hub with access to the sea and to major arterial routes. Altogether a contrast to the modern village – how times change.

    Alice rounded off the talk by showing some fine examples of Dr Knowles’, and others, finds from the 1970s excavations. These come from those which are held collection in the Norwich Castle museum. She followed this by identifying pottery shards found locally. It was generally agreed that if ever the chance to publish the Knowles archives at the museum, it should be grasped. Perhaps a project for Crowd-funding.

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