Words and Music

In just 3 days last weekend I enjoyed great poetry and sublime music. Friday saw the opening of Poetry-next-the-Sea, that fantastic feast of poets and poetry at Wells-next-the-Sea. Organised pretty well single handed by Burnham Market's remarkable patron, Fiona Fraser, the star of the show was undoubtedly the late lamented George Barker. Kicking off with an extraordinary and very moving archive video of the great man reading some of his work towards the end of his life - accompanied by booze and fags lit from a candle -  it was followed by readings of his work from Oliver (brother of Jeffrey) Bernard. Now in his late 80's, Bernard's performance, for this is what it was, was a tour de force and a fitting tribute to possibly Norfolk's greatest poet. Barker's rehabilitation was confirmed by tributes and readings from his daughter - and now author - Raffaella Barker followed by a powerful tribute to her late husband from Elspeth Barker.  A stunning evening and, I would have thought, a very hard act to follow. I shall certainly be looking out for next year's festival.

Just two days later, courtesy of my former business partner, I headed east to Ludham, St. Catherine's Church to be precise, for an evening of sublime music from the Academy of St.Martin the Fields. A programme of Elgar, Britten, Arvo Pårt and a new commission by Sally Beamish combined to make the trip on a dark and damp evening more than worthwhile. Elgar's Introduction and Allegro never fails to please and excite, whilst the Sarabande in Britten's Simple Symphony came as an unexpectedly moving high point. Pårt's - to me unknown - Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten proved mesmeric in the darkening Church. More Britten in the shape of his Variations on a Theme by Frank Bridge provided further proof of the quality of the performance and that we don't need to go to London to hear the best.

It's not wrong, but it is happening

North Norfolk is blessed with great places to shop and eat. No question about that - and clearly they're wanted or they wouldn't keep opening. But are they? When a new supermarket is proposed, a predictable uproar ensues.  The death of the High Street. The growth of anonymous standardisation. The loss of money cycling within the local economy.  But what about the growth of the farm shop and the garden centre?

On the face of it, what possible objection could there be? Local jobs for local people and all particular to the area.  But the reality is possibly different.  What starts as a shed selling locally grown fruit on a seasonal basis, realises that it can expand its business year round by diversifying what it grows, or (very quietly) buying in.  They have space, crucially they have parking and they're not seen as incomers or corporate big bad business.  There then follows a cake shop, because we all like home-made baking.  Then a butcher. Then a country clothes shop - and so it goes.

We all know them.  They're great places to go, the right people go there. The fit-outs get trendier, the cafe's start competing with local pubs and in some cases start their own restaurant. But at what cost? Not surely the sacred High Street?  This is creating new demand or so the story goes, but I'm not so sure. It's great to see local outlets supporting local makers and suppliers but it doesn't stretch the imagination to see that the local butchers, bakers and delis with the overheads and limitations of village and town locations will start to feel the pinch - maybe even relocate themselves - and the rural High Street (if such a thing exists) will have gone. Just as the Banks, Post Offices, and Pubs have largely gone to be replaced by sensitive residential conversions - 'The Old Bank' - so my guess is that the remaining food shops are next.  Leaving the convenience store if you're lucky...  and people like us.

It's not wrong, but it is happening because thats the way we live now. Just saying.

Spring in my step

Living and working in one of Norfolk's best bits, I find myself in a dilemma each day. Where to walk? Top two are rather obviously Overy Staithe and Norton.  This week it's been a narrow victory for Norton  - but more of that next time. This week started with fantastic light at the Staithe.

Looking the other way towards Holkham and, almost by chance, an almost japanese image of what I now know is an Egret in amongst the reeds and reflections.

And just to round it off, a sunset. Routine, normal for Norfolk.

Finally?

It seems we might just be seeing the end of one of the most drawn-out winters, with the prospect of double-digit temperatures on Sunday. In actual fact we seem to have got away quite lightly here in Norfolk, particularly because we missed out on the heavy snow a couple of weeks ago.  That said, it's clear that not only is new growth in the gardens, trees and hedges noticeably late, there look likely to be high numbers of plant casualties.

Before the cold it was the wet, with seemingly nowhere exempt from an excess of ground water. The last few weeks of persistent dry cold have changed that and nowhere is the rapidity of recovery more noticeable than on Norton Marsh, where the paths have dried out to be replaced by a hard and cracked crust.  Despite reports of the impact all this has on life and business, visitors continue to head our way - although there have been moments when it's been hard to conceal surprise that there's anyone out there for pleasure. However, my daily perambulations at the Staithe and out to Gun Hill always serve to remind just why they continue to come.

Not many are lucky enough to have this on their doorstep - and that's on one of the coldest days. On a good day it's just extraordinary.

The downside to the apparent farewell to winter is, of course that it's less likely that you get it all to yourself!

The quiet wrecking of Norfolk

Even if you're a non-believer in terms of global warming - and there is plenty of evidence out there that does not align with the main-stream view - there is good reason to be concerned about future energy supplies.  Whatever you think, the sad fact is that much of the landscape of Britain is being changed in the name of responding to this.

Much of the high and formerly empty spaces in Wales, the West Country and the Northern Hills have fallen to our new idol - wind power. Sadly Norfolk seems to be heading the same way. Recent planning decisions suggest that even with growing misgivings about finance and carbon footprint, the quality of the landscape and the wishes of local communities still do not figure much at the end of the day.

Having lost the battle at Stanhoe, a large area of open 'high Norfolk' is soon to change with the construction of six 100m plus turbines. Less obviously intrusive but significant in its own way, Planning notices have just been posted for a solar farm at Bunkers Hill on the 'Dry Road' from Fakenham to Wells. It could be argued that this site impacts on few neighbours, but it does mean change of use from agricultural to industrial with attendant security fencing, buildings and all the necessary infrastructure - and it is another loss of the few big empty spaces in Norfolk.

Tellingly, the first results of an internet search for solar farms are all adverts for operators seeking sites. "Earn top arable yields from pasture. We won't waste your time", and "Farmer? We farm too - call us." and "Premium rental for land suitable for solar farms in England & Wales"  The message is pretty clear, I think. Couple this with the NFU conference trumpeting how farmers can save us all from impending energy armageddon and its a pretty gloomy outlook for beautiful empty Norfolk.  Or anywhere where money might be made.

Mud, mud, glorious mud

It could be spring, but we all know it isn't that simple. Today the sun's shining, the wind's dropped and we're feeling fine. Just 3 days ago it was rather different and in another 3 days it probably will be again. However, talking to visitors it doesn't actually make that difference to most, and indeed there is a sizeable contingent who come to enjoy whatever North Norfolk chooses to throw at them.  This week it seems the dominant experience was not wind or sleet or even sun - but mud.

There is to be honest quite a bit of it about at the moment. But there's mud and mud.  There's the stuff that people find on their winter walks and which at the moment they are tending to slip and slide on and then there's the stuff in the creeks and on the marsh.

It isn't hard to understand why so many of us love these marginal areas.  Just as you don't need to be particularly religious to appreciate and enjoy the beauty of ancient churches, you don't need to have a boat to enjoy the North Norfolk creeks, and in both cases you would be in the majority. What is less easy to appreciate is that there is a substantial cost attached to managing places like Overy Staithe.  The fact that Cathedrals fall down if they are not cared for at considerable cost is more readily appreciated than the fact that these creeks would silt up and disappear if they were not cared for - also at considerable cost.

Traditionally, the groynes - these are the banks of stone you see in the creek at Overy - were maintained as a matter of tradition and routine in order to direct the currents and maximise the scouring effect of the  tide. With the decline of working boats this traditional pattern of care and maintenance passed into history and the channels become increasingly shallow.  Ultimately, without maintenance, the groynes would pass into history and so would any navigable channel. Life and landscape would change - not as a result of activity but of inactivity, and there would be more and more mud and less water. Whatever we think about the current state of play it is hard to find anything particularly good about such a change. The question is how even maintaining the status quo is to be funded.

Is that it?

Two weeks ago, it was wall to wall blue sky and the garden was looking like it might be thinking about spring. Indeed, the fennel was well into new growth. As ever this has proved to be somewhat of an illusion and a dusting of snow overnight on the Sunday was followed by some more significant snow on Monday evening.

As ever, the roads in north west Norfolk seem to be admirably cared for by the gritting teams - for which they seem to get little praise - and there was no problem in leaving for London on the Tuesday morning.  The difference between dealing with snow on lightly trafficked rural roads and busy urban ones was highlighted later the same day, when Norwich quickly became gridlocked during a heavy snowfall in the early afternoon. Predictably there was a very British outcry but if the roads are already full of traffic there is little any gritter or snowplough can do.

Further snowfall, heavy and light, forecast and unforeseen coupled with some low temperatures has punctuated life both in London and Norfolk over the last two weeks with dire consequences for the optimists in the garden as well as the number of visitors to both galleries.  

Hardly surprising in the case of the latter for even though Norfolk's roads have been pretty good, the pavements have been a somewhat less attractive proposition.

Yesterday, the predicted sting in the tail failed to materialise - in Norfolk if not on the M6 - the garden heaved a gentle sigh as the snow began to melt and the visitors returned - en masse.  An overnight thaw produced a miraculous transformation today - back to blue skies and very hard to find even a trace of the white stuff.  A brief excursion to the recycling centre was a delight. Fantastic light, no traffic to speak of and the north Norfolk coast looking fabulous as ever.

One point of note, the River Burn which I had confidently reassured visitors about only 3 weeks ago is looking pretty full. Which is probably good news... but, as the last couple of weeks has shown and as we found last February, that is probably not the end of it.  My guess is a couple of weeks of wind and rain, and then maybe just a little more cold before the Fennel can be back about its business.