Darkness be my friend

Kielder Observatory in a landscape free of light pollution

As we approached the autumn equinox, the darkening evening skies gave me the notion to seek out the dark skies, away from light pollution, to get a proper view of the night sky.

There are children and probably, adults in this country who have never seen the Milky Way, the "basket handle", arching across above us, the end-on view of our galaxy, our own wee spot in the universe.

Just down the road from us is the Northumberland National Park with its Dark Sky areas.

The whole area is outstandingly beautiful and around Keilder there is a concentration of spots to star gaze.

Skyspace  viewing point

I booked into a great B&B* and settled down to have an evening with the stars. Unfortunately, the observatory was booked for a private event so I was thrown back on my own resources but my hosts made two telescopes available and I had my binoculars.

The gods smiled upon me and the skies cleared for a great view of the southern sky. I am no expert but managed to find the square of Pegasus. Thank goodness for Perseus' mother-in-law, Cassiopeia. The elongated W of her constellation is always easily found and acted as a starting point.

The planets were all too low in the sky for me to see them. At least I think that was why I couldn't find them but as I said I have no expertise only enthusiasm. So, no Mars, Jupiter, Venus or Mercury. None of the old gods were on view.

The next day, full of classical allusions from the heavens, and, being in the area, I drove along the stretch of road that runs, like all Roman roads, in a dead straight line following Hadrian's Wall.

The straight Roman road and wall

At Vindolanda, robbed of its stone over the centuries, you can still catch a glimpse of the might and power of the conquerors. They didn't last. No empires do. Still, the site was occupied for over three hundred years... about six generations or more... a time as long as from the Union of the Parliaments, the creation of Great Britain, until now, except there was no Scotland or England or United Kingdom then. It was Britannia - the most northern province of the Roman Empire. Nations are mere accidents of history

What intrigued me most was a soldier's worn out boot, a caligula, recovered from the rubbish in the ditch and now in the museum. It had once marched along the road I had just driven or stood guard on the fort wall above. Its owner would have shivered in the cold wind from the north and might have looked up at the same stars as I did. There would have been no problem of light pollution for him as he stood on the ramparts.

The legions and cohorts manning the fort seem to have been mostly Gallic. Batavians, Nervians, and Tungrians drawn from what is now the Netherlands and Belgium so the climate wouldn't have been much different to their home but they would have had different names for the constellations. No Greek mythology for them.

Did they see their gods in the skies?
 There are temples to various deities on the Vindolanda site but their stones are mute.

Temple of Jupiter Dolichenus

I must return to the dark skies later in the year. 

*  TWENTY SEVEN B&B 

Berwick Law

An extremely accurate East Lothian signpost !

Munros are getting a bit much for me these days so I thought I'd tackle a Marilyn instead.*

Berwick Law

Berwick Law or North Berwick Law is a conical volcanic plug that rises from the East Lothian countryside to dominate the harbour town.

The climb up the well worn path is relatively easy. The hill has the classic crag and tail outline with a steep easterly side and a slope on the west where , presumably, the lava flowed in a river of molten rock between three and four hundred million years ago.

Napoleonic Wars watch house

On top are a couple of watch stations, one from the Napoleonic Wars and another from WWII, a trig point and a whalebone arch. Strictly speaking the arch is fibreglass or similar material as the original whale's jaw bone deteriorated so much it had to be removed.  So used were people to looking up and seeing it that a facsimile was erected in its place.

Craigleith, lying off the harbour at North Berwick

Craigleith through the arch

The views from the top are wonderful. The other extinct volcanic outlets of the Bass, whitened by the guano from thousands of gannets, the Lomond hills and Arthur's Seat are clearly visible. 

The Bass

You can see the Fife coast and up to Ben Chonzie and Ben Vane amongst the Lomond Munros.

Fidra  and the Lomond Hills

To the south across the fertile farmlands of East Lothian, the farms look like islands in a sea of arable fields.

There are Exmoor ponies on Berwick Law. They were introduced to keep the tussocky grass cropped for the wild flowers to regenerate.

The ponies' grazing seems to be working

I completed a circumnavigation of the entire hill, including a scrambley ascent of the steep east side, following their hoof prints and (fresh !) droppings but saw nary a sign of them.

Still, an enjoyable wee climb on a sunny day.

* A Marilyn is a mountain or hill in the United Kingdom, Republic of Ireland or Isle of Man with a prominence of at least 150 metres (492 ft), regardless of absolute height or other merit.

There are over 2000 in Britain including two of the sea stacks of St Kilda.

Autumn arrives

Hotter than Spain on our beach

Autumn is here. Despite the sunshine – the beach hut thermometer recorded 30 degrees C two days ago - the close bosom-friend of the maturing sun is conspiring to change the season. The haws are ripening, the brambles are getting black and juicy and the autumn crocuses and cyclamen are out beneath the cherry tree.

 The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. *

Autumn crocuses and cyclamens

Time to prune back the shrubs and trees leaving the fuchsia magellenica to last as the bees are still feeding on its flowers.  Ballerina flowers our children called them.

Like a little dancer

Pruning one of the bigger bushes, I came across a tiny nest, its cup not much bigger than a 1p coin.

I think it must have been a goldfinch or a wren though the latter's nests are usually domed. Good luck to the industrious little architect anyway and here's hoping for a mild winter.

Cleaning out the bird boxes brought another collection of old nests, a robin's with man-made fibres woven into it. A reflection of our times.

Some time ago, our beach was threaten by erosion and the local council planted marram grass. Coarse and prone to give a bare leg a jag, it provoked outrage from the beach hut owners. Time has shown the wisdom of the move. For once the council got it right as the thick mat of roots stabilised the sands and now the area has been colonised by the tougher wild flowers - ragwort. campion, yarrow and ox-eye daisy as well as the ubiquitous nettles and plantain.

 There are even a few tiny trees taking hold- elder and sycamore. The butterflies and bees have followed in. It looks like the beach is safe from further elemental damage ere winter's storms begin.

 *Ode to Autumn