Norfolk reeds at Cley next the Sea

click photo to enlarge
Recently, as I've been travelling about, I've chanced upon several thatched buildings undergoing renewal of their roofs. English thatched buildings are generally roofed with either long straw, Norfolk reed or imported reed, combed wheat reed or sedge grass. The material of choice usually depends on local vernacular tradition, the availability of the desired thatching, and the depth of the pockets of the building's owner. In East Anglia, due to the presence of suitable watery areas, the water reed was widely used; elsewhere tall-stemmed varieties of wheat were more favoured. However, the amount of reed available in East Anglia is such that foreign reed, often from the banks of the Danube, has been imported for some years.

On my recent visit to North Norfolk, when passing through Cley next the Sea, I noticed that the reeds of the coastal marsh around the village had been cut for thatching. It was stacked on the flood bank in several piles, under tarpaulins, awaiting selection and use. This activity had denuded the thick reed beds and large, irregular areas were very flat where the reed-cutters tools had been at work. You can see something of this in today's photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (30mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Man-made reed beds

click photo to enlarge
A couple of days ago I got up from my sickbed* and accompanied my wife on a shopping expedition to Spalding. Because I hadn't been out for a while we also had a walk round Springfield Gardens, a 20 acre site adjacent to a shopping centre. As we came upon an area of reed bed and water I reflected on how well this feature had developed. In particular, how natural-looking it was, what a welcome contrast it made to the areas of formal planting, and how it must increase the biodiversity of the site.

There was a time in the latter decades of the twentieth century when, on the back of the rise in environmental consciousness, every garden seemed to acquire a "wild" area. It could be as little as a pile of rotting logs, a bed of nettles or a structure made of bamboo tubes for bees to colonise. Or it was a meadow area, a natural-looking pond or perhaps a stand of native trees and shrubs designed to attract birds and insects. What characterised many of these developments was their unnatural appearance; the way they were clearly bolted on to a traditional garden. Rather fewer fulfilled their aim of being a haven of wildness in an area of manicured order, a place attractive to native species that was a counter-balance to the regularity and species-poverty of many gardens and much agricultural land.

As I gazed across the greater reedmace, reeds and trees, I could, for a moment block out the sound of traffic on the nearby A17, forget the hum of air-conditioning in the buildings behind me, and imagine I was out in the marshes where bearded tits flitted about, bitterns boomed and the only sound was the reeds rustling in the wind.

* My absence from blogging in recent days is due, I think, to the generosity of one of my grandchildren. Not for the first time after a visit I was stricken by a minor illness; in this instance a sore throat, loss of voice, streaming nose and general lethargy. I seem to be on the mend.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  - 0.3EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Cley next the Sea

click photo to enlarge

I read the other day that wheat accounts for a mere 13% of the price of a loaf of bread in the UK. Since the average loaf is currently £1.10, and bakers are agitating for super- markets to add a further 10p, perhaps increasing numbers of households will see the wisdom in baking their own "staff of life". The rise in the price of food across the world has already seen packets of vegetable seeds flying off the shelves in volumes not seen for many years as more British families turn to their garden rather than the store as the source of their greens. And, though one has to be concerned about the affordability of basic foodstuffs, the benefits to health, wealth, well-being and the environment that flow from making and growing more of our own food are to be welcomed.

Fifty years ago much more food was produced in the family kitchen and from the family garden or allotment. Back then it happened principally for reasons of economy, but taste, nutrient value, relaxation and exercise were also factors. Many families, including my own, have always baked bread and grown vegetables, but until recently, despite the proselytising of TV chefs and gardeners, it was a slowly dying practice. So, if it makes a comeback - for whatever reason - I say "Hooray!"

The image of this much photographed windmill at Cley next the Sea, Norfolk, prompted these thoughts. Its turning sails and grinding stones produced flour from the time of its construction in 1819 until its closure as a mill in 1921. I imagine most of its produce was sold in the immediate locality, and turned into bread and other delicacies in fireside ovens, ranges and cookers. Since the time the sails were stilled it has been a home and a bed and breakfast. Old photographs show the building reflected in the harbour with boats alongside. However, like the village of Cley (pronounced "Cly") the mill is no longer "next the Sea", due to land drainage and the silting up of the harbour. Today a walk of almost a mile is necessary to find the beach!

I took this shot of the marsh, mill and nearby cottages as the sun illuminated them against a dark and threatening sky.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm (110mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On